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mercy-burning · 2 months ago

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A Study in Anchored Souls

Pairing: ghost!Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: In which the ghost of Spencer Reid discovers that in order to unveil his unfinished business and finally lay at rest, he must somehow enlist the help of the woman who now inhabits his apartment. Category: MATURE (18+) Content: Strong language, mention of weed, ghost shenanigans (?), female masturbation, fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), brief handjob, unprotected p in v sex, Spencer is invisible for all of that LMAO Word Count: 11.8k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: God, I love ghost smut. That was a goddamn blast to write! Like you don't even know how giddy it made me putting these words to the keys. I even put in extra effort and made a little photo banner, which I’ve never done for a one shot before, and I’m kinda obsessed with it ngl 😂 I hope you love this one as much as I do! <3 Written for @imagining-in-the-margins Autumn Air writing challenge!

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ACT I: Girls' Night

Spencer Reid always knew he would die.

It was a cold, hard fact of life that at one point, everyone would die. It was unsure when or how, but it happened. There was no escaping it. That thought alone was enough to squander most of his anxieties about death— even after a few near-death experiences and the constant danger his line of work tended to throw at him throughout his lifetime.

Still, the one thing he couldn't stand to think about was the "after". He wanted truly to believe that what happened after death was just nothingness, but after his encounter with Tobias, it stirred up all sorts of questions and unexplainable possibilities that were just too vast for even his brain to try and comprehend.

Then, of course, there was the fact that he was currently standing in his old apartment, watching somebody else live her life, completely invisible to her. He tried talking to her, too, but nothing. It was like he wasn't even there.

But why? It's not like he had unfinished business or anything. The unsub who shot him was shot down immediately afterwards. He watched him die before passing out himself. Why was he "awake" now, nearly 5 months after the fact, and not when his friends were grieving him? Where were his friends, and why has the afterlife chosen to tie Spencer to a place rather than the people that knew and loved him?

Logically it seemed reasonable but really, he just missed his friends. He missed his life.

He hated the afterlife, he decided then. There was no reason he needed to keep doing this when he couldn't even leave the confines of the apartment. He couldn't walk through walls or touch anything or sit down on the woman's gross floral couch. If he wanted to enter another room, the door needed to be opened, otherwise he was stuck right there in the living room, the kitchen, and the open dining space that connected the two. If he was allowed to live his afterlife with his mom, or playing Chess with Gideon, or travelling the world, free to go anywhere and see anything without hardship, it might have been different.

But no. He was stuck watching this woman struggle to move furniture by herself.

He didn't know her. Had never seen her before. She wasn't a student of his or a victim he'd saved or even a fling. She was a complete stranger. A complete stranger who unfortunately had terrible taste in decor and an even more unfortunately beautiful face.

Her name was Y/N. From what he could gather, she didn't have any family, at least not nearby. Her two best friends were the only other people in her circle that he'd seen in the apartment, and when they were all together it was... interesting. There was a lot of loud laughter and wine, and oh God, the sex talk...

It felt intrusive, but he couldn't leave. He could migrate to another room, maybe, but his ears still worked, even a little too well. His eyes, too, seemed to be as sharp as ever, any imperfections to his vision completely mended. He was simply over aware of everything, and yet hollow at the same time, and he hated everything about it.

But what could he do? He couldn't even touch anything or communicate to anyone, so how could he possibly figure out what was keeping him here and how he could get out of it? Did his new roommate hold some sort of knowledge or ability to help him solve this mystery, or was he destined to watch her live out her life in this place that he once called "home"? Was there any connection between them at all?

He didn't know.

Usually he liked puzzles, but this one was rather annoying.

He just wanted to rest.

Y/N had been moved in for just over a month (yes, there was a whole month of just standing there learning everything about a stranger because there was simply nothing else for Spencer to do) when finally, there was a small glimmer of hope.

Heavy on the small.

It was Girls' Night. Friday. It always consisted of too much wine and movies and snacks and discussions about whatever they were reading or watching. Despite the differences in the routine, the camaraderie made Spencer miss his friends. He wondered what they were all up to. Maybe, if this all worked out, he could actually find out.

But for now, he had to focus on the baby steps.

When the girls showed up with a Ouija board, he couldn't help the incredulous laughter that escaped him.

Y/N, it seemed, felt the same disbelief. "You guys, what the fuck is that?"

"What does it look like?" the first friend, Maya, retorted.

The other, Robin, added, "You were the one that said you felt like you weren't tooootally aloooone in this apartment..."

Her haunting inflection elicited a backhanded thump to the arm, Y/N groaning as she closed the door behind her. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean I would want to know what or who it is! Besides, I'm probably just paranoid. It's just being in a new place and the anxieties that come with it, that's all. You guys are insane."

"Only one way to find out!"

Was Spencer really going to entertain this? A goddamn Ouija board? He enjoyed his fair share of spooky things and researching superstitions, but that was out of his realm of belief. On the other hand, one could technically consider him a ghost... He could look down and see himself, but nobody else could see or hear him... Y/N had obviously voiced a concern for feeling a presence to her friends, but how much of that feeling was accurate and how much of it was, in fact, 'new home anxieties'?

As the girls unboxed the board and set up their things, Spencer sighed, mumbling to himself, "Only one way to find out..."

Maya closed the curtains and turned all the lights off, meanwhile Y/N and Robin were collecting and lighting any candle they could find. They cleared off the low coffee table in front of the couch where the girls sat and set everything up there, Spencer taking a seat on the floor opposite the group. It was then that Y/N said something that made him laugh.

"Wait, shouldn't we give the couch to the ghost?"

"What?"

"Well, what if it's an angry ghost? And then we make it sit on the floor, and it decides to exact vengeance on us? Maybe we should... I don't know, be more hospitable?"

"Hmmm, maybe you're right," Robin said, standing up. "Do you hear that, Ghost? We're only being nice to you, so please don't kill us, m'kay?"

Spencer sighed. Little did they know, he couldn't actually sit on the couch. Or a chair. Or anything that wasn't the floor. It was like the ground was the only physical thing he was anchored to. Still, the girls had no way of knowing that, so they shuffled their way to the other end of the table, flipping the Ouija board so it would face the other way. Spencer got up and moved then. He'd have to stand uncomfortably in the small gap between the table and the couch, bending down at the waist to use the board, provided he could even touch it.

He had no idea how this was going to work, if at all.

It was all starting to sound and feel absolutely ridiculous.

The girls each put a finger on the planchette, nervous laughter emanating from them, and Spencer gave one last deep breath before reaching out to touch it himself, anticipating the moment of truth.

His hand hovered over the board, feeling a block just before he would make any contact. He couldn't touch it. His hand wouldn't even go through. He retreated and huffed, wondering if there was something he could do to communicate with them otherwise. He tried to blow out one of the candles, but with no luck. He could feel his breath against his own skin (could you even call it that at this stage?), but the objects in front of him were completely oblivious to his presence.

He was about to give up and call it a night, leaving the girls to have their fun, but then one of them gasped.

"Wait, don't we have to use two fingers? Is that how it works?"

"Shit, I think you're right."

They adjusted their positions and Spencer sighed, but indulged them just in case.

His hand lowered again, middle and pointer fingers approaching the planchette in anticipation. He half-expected there to be resistance again, but this time, a cool rush of wind gusted up in between them as his fingers made contact with the wood.

"Holy shit!" all four of them exclaimed in unison.

"Did you feel that?" Maya squealed excitedly. "Wicked..."

"No, not wicked!" Y/N whined. "We should stop!"

"Really? You know for sure now that there's a ghost living in your apartment, and you're just not going to ask it questions to make sure it's not harmful? Be smart about this, bitch," Robin countered playfully.

Spencer wanted to cut to the chase. He moved his hand, spelling out a word, and the girls collectively gasped before reciting each letter out loud hesitantly, like they couldn't believe what was happening.

"H-A-R-M-L-E-S-S"

"Oh my God! You have a Casper!"

Y/N shook her head furiously. "You guys, stop fucking with me, I mean it. This isn't funny."

"I didn't move it!" said Robin.

"Me either," said Maya. "Besides, you felt that wind right? How could either of us have done that?"

"I don't know, because you're a fucking wizard or something! Cut it out!"

"Hey, if you didn't want to do it that badly, you would have taken your hand off the planchette... Hey, Ghost, have you ever seen Y/N naked?"

"Robin!"

Maya cackled and Y/N went pale. If he wasn't already dead, Spencer would have probably gone pale as well.

The truth was, he had. Seen her naked, that is.

He wasn't proud of it. It happened by total accident. Sort of. He was following her around the apartment all day because he was bored, and he'd ended up locked in her bedroom with her. Either he was truly horrible at reading people (which seemed impossible considering his profession) or she had just gotten a random spurt of excitement, because the moment her door closed, she whipped her shirt off, exposing her bare torso to him, and he couldn't move. He was frozen, completely shocked at the sight before him. She reached down to take off her pants, and he turned around then, quickly becoming aware of the situation.

She rustled behind him and he tried desperately to walk through the door. Any time he got close, the barrier would stop him. He couldn't do anything but stand in the corner and pray to whatever that she was only changing.

She was, in fact, not changing.

Spencer swore in that moment at the table that he could still hear the low hum of her vibrator and every single sound that came from her body and mouth that night, and he was absolutely mortified.

He'd only dared to glance back when he heard the end, her breathing slow and the humming gone. It was silent for a while before he turned around entirely, only to find her asleep, sprawled completely bare over the covers. He wished he could have draped a blanket over her, but his hands were more or less tied.

Thankfully she was only asleep for about a half hour before she forced herself awake to clean up and actually go to bed.

Spencer never followed her around the apartment ever again. Just in case.

"Don't answer that, Ghost," Y/N rushed, "Robin's just fucking around. We promise to ask you serious questions from here on out."

Maya faked a snore. "Come on, Y/N, this is supposed to be fun. The ghost is harmless."

"No, the ghost said it was harmless. Doesn't mean it is."

Spencer thought for a moment as the girls went back and forth, and then he spelled out another word— or an acronym, rather.

"It's moving again!" Robin gasped, spelling out the letters.

"F-B-I"

"Holy shit did you work for the FBI, Ghost?" Maya inquired.

Spencer moved the planchette to the "YES" at the top of the board.

"Maybe... Maybe we should stop calling them Ghost..." Y/N took a shaky breath and closed her eyes for a brief moment before nodding. "Ummm... Spirit Who Resides Here..." Robin and Maya snorted. "What is your name?"

Spencer wished he could tell her she didn't need to be formal, but it was amusing watching her do it anyway. He spelled out his name, first and last, and the girls made a collective hum of acceptance. A normal name and not something concerning.

"We should Google him," Robin said matter-of-factly.

Maya hummed in agreement, but Y/N swallowed and asked another question. "Spencer, you're not... Going to hurt me, are you?"

He moved the planchette to "NO," and watched the relief take over her body, relaxing her muscles and her posture for just a brief moment. He could tell she was still wary, but it was a step in the right direction.

"See? Told you he was harmless."

"He still could be lying," Y/N mumbled. Then she sat up straight. "Not that I don't believe you, Spencer. I'm sorry. You just have to understand that I'm a woman living alone, and the thought of a man I can't see haunting my apartment is just... It's extremely terrifying."

He felt bad for her. As annoying as his situation was, he couldn't imagine being in hers. He almost wished he hadn't entertained the Ouija board at all and put her worries to rest, but since it was too late, all he could do was try and reassure her that he wasn't a threat.

His fingers moved again.

"U-N-D-E-R-S-T-A-N-D"

And then a pause, before: "S-O-R-R-Y"

Y/N's eyes dropped, and her friends made a collective "Awwwww," before a knock sounded at the door, jolting them all to move away from the Ouija board.

Spencer was knocked backwards, and he expected his newfound sense of touch to disappear once the connection had broken, but to his surprise, he found himself safely seated on the couch. His hands reached over the fabric, testing, and despite his distaste for the floral pattern on it, the cushions were suddenly the greatest thing he'd ever touched. He was grateful for this couch. And for the Ouija board, and for Y/N and her eccentric friends.

Speaking of which, Robin yelled out, "Pizza's here!" and got up with Maya to abandon the board. Pizza apparently seemed more interesting than a ghost, but for two women who Spencer could now tell (no thanks to his upgraded sense of smell) were a little high, that seemed reasonable.

As her friends happily greeted the pizza delivery man, Y/N reached out to touch the planchette again, just for a moment, and gently whispered, "Thank you, Spencer."

He returned it with an earnest, "You're welcome," but he wasn't sure if she'd hear or not. She looked around the area for a few seconds before turning around, and it wasn't clear whether she had.

But she seemed relaxed now, and that was a start.

As the girls sat at the dining table and ate pizza, Spencer tested out his new senses just a few steps away. He found himself thankful to be in a familiar place, even if the decor was different. The walls were the same and the bookshelves still stood, now filled with bright Romance novels and trinkets and photos that laid out Y/N's personality quite perfectly. He smiled, running his fingers along the spines of the books, missing the feeling even if they weren't his own.

He wanted to see if he could read one, just for the sake of feeling a book in his hands again, but he figured he'd wait until Maya and Robin were gone and Y/N was asleep.

Until then, he continued to touch things without making them move, not wanting to raise anyone's eyebrows.

And then, a gasp sounded from the dining table.

"I found him! I have his obituary right here!"

"Holy shit, let me see!"

Spencer made his way to the table to observe.

The girls passed around Maya's phone, looking at his obituary photo. Robin made a low whistle, then called out into the air on her left. He was standing to her right, unable to help the dry laughter that escaped him at the irony of the situation.

"Spencer, you were hot!"

Maya shook her head and sighed. "Yeah. What a damn shame. Sorry, man."

Robin seemed more amused than anything, turning to Y/N, who was reading through the obituary. "Hey, at least you can rest easy knowing you've got a hot FBI ghost watching over you."

"Yeah, but... Why? Do you think he lived here? In this apartment?"

"I don't know. Maybe we should ask him."

Y/N sighed, handing Maya her phone back. "I'm sure he has more exciting ghost stuff to do on a Friday night than entertain us three. All I know is he promised not to hurt me, so I don't really care if he stays."

He was glad for her ease of anxiety, but he certainly cared if he stayed. However, she sounded exhausted, and it was fair. Finding out your new apartment was haunted by a ghost (even a harmless one) sounded like a reasonably stressful situation. He wanted desperately to figure out how to finally move on, but for now he could accept the simple fact that he could actually touch things now, and let Y/N rest easy.

Even if he couldn't yet.

ACT II: X's and Oh's

Every time she came home, Y/N would greet Spencer kindly. Probably out of precaution (you know, just in case he really was lying about being harmless), but brightly all the same.

"Spencer, I'm home! I... I don't know if you're haunting me or the apartment, but... I hope you had a good day, just in case it's me."

He smiled, wishing he could greet her back.

Eventually, he found small ways to do it.

He fogged up a spot on her bathroom mirror, that way the next time she showered before bed, the heat would reveal a message on the glass: "Good night. —S.R."

Y/N talked to him that night, dressed in her pajamas and walking around the apartment like she was deciding where to talk to him. Eventually she decided on standing in her bedroom doorway.

"Spencer? You said good night so you might not even be in here, but... I guess this is me saying good night back...Thanks for being a nice ghost, I really appreciate it. If... If there's anything I can do for you, let me know, okay? Okay... Goodnight."

If only there was a way she could hear him. Communicating in mirror-notes was hardly good for anything more than a simple "good night," and despite the fact that he could touch things, he couldn't grip them, so writing on paper was out. He'd kept trying to open a door with the handle, and with no luck. It was starting to get irritating, wondering what the next step was to evolving as a ghost.

He couldn't even believe he'd thought up the phrase. Ghost evolution sounded absolutely insane, but he supposed it was his current reality regardless of how it sounded...

Tonight Y/N was out rather late. For a brief moment Spencer started to worry, but then the key turned in the doorway and relief settled in when she finally stepped inside. She seemed rather tired, but greeted him with a gentle smile all the same.

"Hi, Spencer."

"Welcome home, Y/N."

She didn't hear him, obviously, but it still felt rude not to say it back. He wondered if he could try to touch her in greeting. Maybe a brief brushing of hands or a tap of acknowledgement on the shoulder. But he didn't want to scare her, so he'd have to figure that out.

Thankfully, she seemed to have felt his curiosity somehow.

Later that night, as she laid in bed, she called out, drawing his attention from the living room where he tried to open a cabinet. Still no luck there.

"Spencer? Are you there?"

He wandered over to the bedroom, glad to see she'd left the door cracked open so he could get in. He hesitated before moving, hoping she wouldn't freak out when she saw the door open.

When he did finally gather the courage to move the barrier and step inside, he heard her gasp as she sat up in bed.

"Spencer? Was that you? Um... Move the door again if it was..."

He obliged, swinging the door shut gently as he stepped inside the room. The second the door clicked, he realized his mistake.

Now he was trapped in here with her. Not that it was a bad thing necessarily, but the last time this happened, he'd accidentally intruded on a rather intimate moment. His essence warmed at the thought.

"Holy shit. Um... This is kind of weird... I've gotten your notes and talked to you through the Ouija board, but... seeing you move things in front of me is... only slightly terrifying."

Her nervous laughter endeared him but also made him want to comfort her.

He walked over to the side of the bed closest to her body, hoping she'd be willing to communicate more thoroughly somehow. The two of them together could surely come up with something.

Again, their brains seemed to be on the same wavelength.

"If I hold out my hand... Would you touch it? Just to... let me know that it's you?"

Her arm outstretched, and Spencer slowly brought his middle finger down to touch hers, ever so lightly.

The second there was contact, there was a shock. Spencer jolted and Y/N yelled and yanked her hand back, her whole body shuddering as she kicked her legs. "Oh my God, holy fuck!" And then she laughed, reaching out to search for his touch again. He felt... different somehow, but he was still invisible to her. Her fingers wiggled and Spencer helped her out, gently holding her hand to keep it steady, as if to convey, "I'm right here, and it's okay."

"Hi," she said through a smile, her breathing heavy. "It's... Nice to... finally meet you. Kind of. Kind of meet you, I mean... Not kind of nice. I'm sorry."

He rubbed his thumb gently over the top of hers in response.

"I'm still wrapping my head around this whole thing, I... I guess I just wanted some extra confirmation that you were really here. Can I ask you some questions, Spencer?"

He rubbed her thumb again, and she breathed out with a smile.

"Okay um... Maybe draw a circle on the back of my hand for yes and an X for no... That sound good?"

Spencer traced a circle against her skin, and she nodded. "Good! Okay, cool. This is cool. Um... Did you live here? In this apartment?"

A circle.

"Is... that why you're here now?"

An X, and then a question mark.

"No... You don't know why you're here then?"

A circle.

Y/N pondered for a moment. "Could there be something of yours that's holding you here? Something we have to find or a mystery we have to solve?"

Spencer drew another question mark, then sighed. As much as he liked Y/N, he was pretty sure she would not be able to answer any of those questions. But there had to be another way to... level up, so to speak. To make him visible or audible.

"I'm sorry," she said somberly. "From what I've read, you seem like you were a good person. I hope you figure it out, whatever it is. And... I meant it. If there's anything I can do to help you, I will."

He drew a circle on her skin, but kept going around a few times, his symbol of appreciation.

Y/N warmed at the sentiment, smiling and hanging her head to look down at the hand he was holding. He didn't know it, but her skin was tingling at his invisible touch.

"Spencer... I know this is probably going to be weird... But the night I first met you, when my friends were with me... Robin asked you if... you'd uh... If you'd seen me..."

She wouldn't look up, like she was afraid to look at him even though she still couldn't see him. She didn't finish her sentence, seeming to be embarrassed about the punchline, but Spencer didn't need it. He knew exactly what she meant. Before she had time to retreat or move on, he drew a slow circle on the back of her hand.

Her head lifted. "You did see me? Naked?"

Spencer let out a shaky breath. Hesitated. Then drew another circle, followed by S-O-R-R-Y.

"Oh, I'm not upset, I promise. You don't have to be sorry."

Something shifted in her eyes then and she paused, and Spencer realized that before when she'd asked, she wasn't embarrassed. She was simply feeling the water before diving in.

He swallowed hard.

"Did you like what you saw?"

Her voice was soft, but simultaneously hard with mischief. He looked at her then— truly looked at her with his overly-perfect Afterlife vision, and even in the dim light emanating from the open curtains and the streetlights beyond it, he could see her clear as day. Rather than the big tee-shirt she always wore to bed, tonight she was wearing something lacy and lavender.

And her door was closed. He couldn't leave this room.

Although, he had a feeling right then that it didn't matter anymore. Because his hand tightened over hers instinctively and he felt himself get hard beneath the suit pants he'd been buried in.

That's new, he thought through a sigh of excitement, quickly recalling that night he'd seen her. And heard her. Feeling was growing in his joints, and he found himself flexing his hands with a new strength he hadn't felt since being alive.

"Fuck," he hissed, shaking his head in disbelief.

I think she may be slowly bringing me back to life.

He drew a slow, sensual circle on the back of her hand, and she laughed through a grin. "I was hoping you'd say that. I was also hoping that maybe we could try something a little... unconventional. The truth is, I've always hated living alone. It's too lonely, and I hate it... Now that I have you to keep me company, though... It's not nearly as bad."

She shifted her fingers, grabbing his hand and slowly bringing it to her face. Spencer caressed her as he came closer, his knees now touching the edge of her mattress. She closed her eyes and reveled in his touch, goosebumps forming along her skin.

"Will you touch me, Spencer?"

His name falling suggestively from her lips was quite possibly the greatest thing he'd ever experienced, among life and death. The afterlife. Whatever. None of it mattered, nothing mattered right then except for Y/N and her needs.

He drew a circle on her cheek and she laughed, the sound dissolving into a rather wanton sigh when he traced his middle finger down her jaw and over her throat. Just the gentlest of touches, barely even a touch at all.

"You want this just as bad as I do, don't you?" she asked, lolling her head to the side as his finger traced her collarbone and then her shoulder.

"I do." He focused on the way her chest heaved, slowly up and down as she melted into his touch, and then traced the strap of her nightgown until he reached the front, just at the curve of her breasts.

Y/N arched her back and pulled the covers away from her body, revealing herself to him in full as she got comfortable. She scooted and leaned back against the headboard, pulling Spencer along the side of the bed. He gladly followed.

"I give you permission to touch me in any way you see fit, okay? I... I want you to do whatever feels good to you. How does that sound?"

At the invitation, he quickly let his mind wander to extremely filthy places and wondered if he had the ability to taste again...

The thought alone made him twitch beneath his pants, and suddenly there was no going back.

He let out a long breath and touched the bottom hem of her nightgown. It was already short to begin with, but since she'd moved around in bed and her feet were flat, knees pointed upward, the fabric rode up to the very tops of her thighs. He drew another continuous circle right there, just below where it ended, and Y/N instinctively started to spread her knees apart.

Spencer stopped her, gripping one knee and spelling out W-A-I-T before slipping his shoes and jacket off. She arched an eyebrow, confused at first, but then looked down to the floor when she heard his shoes being kicked back and his clothing falling there.

And then, when he was ready, she looked back to the bed in front of her as Spencer climbed and knelt, positioning himself in front of her. Her eyes watched the mattress move, and a flicker of excitement danced over her features, amusing him.

He placed his hands on her knees, and even though she'd given him permission, he asked anyway, drawing a question mark against her skin.

She nodded. "Please."

Slowly, his hands pulled her legs apart. He drew it out as long as he possibly could, curious to know how long he could test her anticipation threshold. He still planned to give her everything she wanted, of course, but there was something oddly erotic about being touched by somebody you couldn't see that she was obviously keen to explore. So he would take his time until she begged him otherwise.

Sure enough, her stare was laser-focused on her body as he moved it to his liking, her breath hitching once her legs were far enough apart for him to realize she wasn't wearing anything underneath her nightgown and he paused. Already she was glistening with arousal, a sight that nearly made Spencer go completely slack.

"How long have you wanted this..." he wondered aloud, overwhelmed and in awe as his hands traveled firmly down her inner thighs. She squirmed under his bold touch, and leaned her head back against the headboard with a soft thud.

"Please," she whimpered, her hands reaching out to grip whatever bunched up fabric she could find on the bed.

He had planned to test the waters a little longer, ever so the scientist at heart, but figured that was as good of a plea as any to give in and finally give her what she wanted.

And so, Spencer ran a gentle, steady hand down through her heat, dragging his middle finger along the seam until he barely entered her, then came back up.

The long, desperate moan that Y/N drew out was like Heaven to his ears, and he'd never been more grateful for his heightened senses than in that moment. Every breath she took, every gloriously wet sound her body made as he explored her, every rustle of her hands through the sheets... All of it was sharp and crisp, and no other symphony had ever sounded so beautiful.

He wanted more of it.

One finger became two, and Spencer looked up to watch her face as he fingered her slowly. Parted lips and focused eyes fighting to stay open despite the pleasure she was feeling made for quite the perfect view, he almost didn't want to look away. But there was so much to beauty see between her soft facial features and the curves of her body and the obvious arousing sight below him. It was overwhelming how hot he felt in that moment, he could have sworn he was glowing.

His pace quickened, and Y/N had finally given into the temptation to close her yes, her head falling back again as she rolled her hips. He was getting impatient now.

With his other hand, against the inside of her thigh, Spencer spelled out "T-A-S-T-E-?"

"Oh, God, please. Yes."

Still hesitant to scare her even though his fingers were already deep inside her, rather than diving in as he so desperately wanted to, he slowly brought his head down to meet the area between her legs. He turned to press his cheek to the soft flesh of her thigh, and she gasped, the sound fading to a low laugh as she took in the feeling of his mouth and his hair caressing her skin. He kissed her then, tentatively darting his tongue out to taste her and sighing with relief once he realized he could actually taste again. Once he had that revelation, there was no going back. He was a man starved, his kisses growing more hungry as they traveled up and up and up...

Once his tongue made curious contact with the hood of her clit, Y/N gasped again, clutching her bed sheets and rolling her hips up to meet him. Spencer groaned, and a selfish part of him wished she could hear it. He wanted her to know just how crazy she was driving him, how much he wanted her. She could certainly feel it, her reaction to the vibrations causing her muscles to flex and her toes to curl, and he decided then that it would have to do. He was just going to have to make her feel his desire so deeply that it rattled in her bones and lingered there for the rest of eternity. He wanted to ruin everybody else for her, to stay with her until the end of time.

She reached and felt around for his head, fingers threading through invisible curls as she cried out.

"Spencer, you're so— so good..."

He hummed his approval at the praise and continued to work her, adding a third finger and sucking on her clit to feel her fingers tugging at his scalp. The sensation alone had him nearly lightheaded, and he wanted to stay there forever, lost in her taste and her touch and her noises.

God, her noises...

She sighed and whined, and stretched and squelched around his fingers, and he was convinced that had he not already been dead, he would have begged whoever was listening to keep him alive just to experience her forever.

The second she struggled to keep her legs open, trapping his head between them, he knew she was quickly approaching her orgasm, and he couldn't wait. He'd heard her climax before, but being right there as it was happening felt like a privilege he would always be grateful for. He wanted to replicate everything he'd heard that night and get to feel it, too— get to be the one to make her feel that way.

"Fuck, don't stop, I'm s— so close..."

Spencer groaned into her as if to say, "I know, I can feel you." Oh, how he wished he could talk her through it, to tease her with his words... Alas, he had no choice but to encourage her with his actions, so he used his free hand to search for one of hers. She gave up her hand to lace their fingers together, and his thumb continued to draw mindless circles into her skin as she clenched and released, over and over again until she was coming.

"Spencer!" she cried to the air, over and over again as if she could will him into existence again. It was a desperate plea, a manifestation, and the both of them secretly hoped that it would work.

She wanted to see him

He wanted her to see him, too.

He felt her climax subside, and then he slowly eased his fingers out of her and trailed his tongue down to keep tasting. A part of him was scared to realize he might not actually be visible like he hoped, but he pushed the potential disappointment aside and luxuriated in the way she tasted. He delved in and gripped the underside of her thighs to keep them steady, and with a delighted groan as he pushed his tongue inside, Y/N gasped.

"Fuck, I can hear you..."

The words excited him greatly.

"Thank God."

Spencer kissed her, tasted her until she was writhing and begging him to stop.

"Please, Spencer, kiss me."

He pulled away and looked up at her, smiling even though she still couldn't see him. "I am kissing you," he replied, pressing his lips to her thigh.

"You know what I mean. Come here..."

He laughed and obliged, kissing his way up her legs and crawling up her body. He slowly dragged his hands up her stomach, bunching up her nightgown and sliding it up her body the farther he got. Her eyes watched in allure as the fabric rode up and up and up, seemingly on its own. But she knew better, she knew who was undressing her and worshipping her, and it made her squirm.

She lifted her arms over her head and let him take the clothing off, revealing her chest to the chilly air. She watched as the fabric flew to the ground, and then felt Spencer's hands return to her skin, gentle fingers raising goosebumps all over. Her nipples pinched and hardened the closer he got to them, and soon enough he was palming her breasts as he pressed his forehead to hers, wedging his body between her legs.

"Kiss me," she breathed, feeling his nose touch hers. His breath was hot against her own, and her eyes fluttered shut. "Please..."

"Anything for you, sweet girl..."

She sighed as his mouth finally collided with her own, the heady and prominent taste of her arousal growing stronger the deeper he kissed her. Their bodies couldn't stop moving, wandering hands and urgent hips, and with his newfound ability to speak to her, Spencer spoke in gentle praises. He sighed out her name reverently, telling her how good and sweet and perfect she was, and she returned every word with a whimper, in awe that he was really there. He was becoming more and more present, and she couldn't get enough.

"I want to feel you," she said against his lips, dragging her hand down his invisible chest. She fingered through every button of his shirt until it was loose and open, and the cool hum of his skin as she explored his torso made her hands numb.

Spencer kissed her jaw and groaned, feeling himself throb at her words. "Let me help..."

He grabbed her hand and guided her to the bulge in his pants, even though she could have just as easily stumbled onto it herself. The intimacy of it all was almost overwhelming, so much so that when her grip tightened softly on his clothed erection, Spencer almost came undone right then and there.

"Fuck, Y/N... I'd say you're going to be the death of me, but..."

They laughed together until she kissed him again, deeply and with a sigh. "You're becoming more and more real, but... this feels like... it feels like a dream."

He understood what she meant, and it filled him with a tinge of sadness, but her hand slowly palming him was becoming harder and harder to ignore. He gripped her wrist and his breath hitched in her ear as he nipped at it.

"Trust me, sweetheart... I am very real."

She shuddered at his words and squeezed him tighter before fumbling for his belt.

"Spencer... Do you think..." Her hands successfully undid the confines of his pants and started to slide them down over his hips, trying not to mess up her words as he sucked marks into her neck. "Do you think that if you fuck me... I'll finally be able to see you?"

"Mmm, God, I hope so," he groaned earnestly, repositioning themselves so he could kick off his pants and rest her head on the pillow. She let him take the lead, her breath getting heavier with anticipation as he positioned himself between her legs and grabbed her wrist. Once again, he was guiding her hand to his cock, hard and, this time, bare. She cursed under her breath as she gripped him and he helped her languidly stroke himself in exploration. His fingers were strong over hers, and he applied just the right amount of pressure to draw out a groan from the both of them.

"Please," she sighed out desperately through shallow breaths. "Spencer, please, I need you..."

How could he resist?

He didn't even want to entertain the thought of trying.

"Then let me take care of you, sweet girl," he cooed, hiking her thighs to rest over his hips and slowly sinking into her with ease.

Once he was all the way in, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, comforting her through the low burn. He slowly rolled his hips forward as she cried out his name, her fingers coming up to grip his shoulders. "You feel that?" he whispered into her skin. "How perfectly I fit inside you? It's like you were made for me..."

"Uh-huh," she stuttered in agreement.

He stopped teasing her then, pulling back to start fucking her nice and slow as she adjusted to him. Her fingers curled and knotted into the loose material of his shirt. She would have slid it off of him, but the grip on something steady was nice as she let him focus on his ministrations. He seemed to be doing just fine with the shirt on, anyway, and it was hard to even think about anything other than how good he felt.

She wondered then, as he picked up momentum and started peppering kisses down her jawline, what she looked like to the night. If she were standing there, outside her own body, watching herself being thoroughly and beautifully wrecked by something invisible and obviously enjoying every second...

Her eyes rolled back at the image, just as Spencer started going harder. His hips snapped into hers with a strength and precision that felt like it was rattling worlds. It very well could have been, and neither of them had any mind to care; They were so intensively intertwined with each other that it was a different world entirely.

They started to burn hot, that familiar warm chill of impending pleasure creeping up through their bodies and setting them alight. Y/N snaked her arms up to Spencer's neck and brought him down for a searing kiss as she melted into him, and he returned it with a fervor that elicited the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. He felt it all the way in his bones, felt the waves of pleasure start to drag him under as she squeezed him with her limbs and started to come undone herself.

The atmosphere around them was purely electrifying, bright snaps of skin and sharp whispers of mouth combining to brew a perfect storm that nothing would ever survive. It was wild and unconstrained, glimmering and grand, and in their wake, the two entities left their desire lingering in the air for the dead of night to stew in for as long as it would allow.

Spencer collapsed on top of her with a hefty sigh, and he was grateful to be able to finally share his voice with her. The mystery and simplicity of the X's and O's were fun to indulge in at first, but now that they'd grown closer and created something beautiful and memorable together, he had to tell her exactly how he felt— no symbols, no mysteries...

He kissed her softly and pulled back to look into her eyes, dragging a thumb over her cheekbone as he told her the truth.

"You're perfect."

Her eyes went wide, welling with tears as she reached up and ran a finger softly along the bridge of his nose.

"You're beautiful."

Relief and something else—something warm—stirred in Spencer's chest at the confirmation that she could finally see him, and that she was moved by what she saw. Who she saw...

He couldn't help the smile that adorned his face, and the soft joyous laughter that escaped him as she continued to explore his features with the pads of her fingertips, like she was trying to memorize him from touch alone in case he suddenly disappeared again.

"I mean it, Spencer, you're... even more beautiful than I imagined."

"You imagined me?" he inquired rather suggestively.

With a laugh, she brought him down for a slow, searing kiss. "Duh..."

Even though they were tired, they stayed like that for hours, kissing and exploring and sighing until the sweet lull of sleep took hold and carried them through the night.

For a solid few hours until he awoke, Spencer completely forgot that he wasn't alive.

ACT III: Unfinished Business

Y/N had never done so much research in her entire life. She liked Spencer, and she was more than happy to help him out, but man... Reading dozens of articles and textbooks and blogs about the different types of spirits and how to lay them to rest was a long, exhausting road that led pretty much nowhere. There was no way to know what type of ghost Spencer was or how to help him move on, not that she could see, anyway. She didn't know if he'd age with her, or be 'undead' long enough to become vicious and bitter like a lot of the spirits she read about, and Spencer's research was just about as inconclusive as her own.

A selfish part of her hoped she'd never find out, to keep him around forever... But she also knew that wasn't fair to him. No matter how lonely she was or how much fun they had and how they enjoyed each other's company, well... The fact of the matter was, he was dead.

And he deserved to rest.

In the meantime, in the hours between headache-inducing frustration at the lack of answers, Spencer told her about his life. His friends, mostly— the best people he'd ever known. The way he described them, she had a feeling that they might hold the key to his dilemma. If not directly, perhaps there was something about him that they knew, something that might give Y/N some insight into his ghostly purpose, so to speak. Not that she couldn't ask Spencer directly, but they'd already discussed a lot of back-and-forth on enemies and people that could have wanted to harm him, all of which were surefire impossibilities. Not to mention the fact that he seemed tied to this apartment and not anything else. Maybe that didn't have anything to do with it, but neither of them knew.

It was the only other option she had.

They laid next to each other in her bed, her head laying on his chest. Her ear warmed gently, and tried as she might to hear a heartbeat, all she could hear was a faint white noise, almost like he was merely a figure of tangible energy rather than a body. She supposed that was technically what he was, but as much as she'd grown to know and like Spencer, it was hard to think of him that way. It was... sad to think of him that way.

She frowned and nestled into him, trying to push away that petulant nagging in the depths of her soul that screamed "This isn't fair!" and she told him the most difficult thing she'd ever had the courage to push past her lips.

"I think I have an idea... You can say no if you think it's too weird, but... It might help you. Maybe."

"Mmm, what's that?" he responded, curious but not audibly hopeful. It made Y/N even more sad to think he probably figured he'd never find peace.

"What if I go talk to your friends? Do you think they might know something you don't?"

There was a beat of silence before she felt his chest heave with gentle laughter. "Derek Morgan definitely wouldn't think so..."

Recalling some of the funny stories he'd told her about him, she smiled. Still, she pressed. "I mean it. What other outlets do we have? Where else is there to look? If there's anyone who knows you better than anyone else, wouldn't it be them?"

Spencer sighed, giving it a thought. His fingers raked through her hair and massaged her scalp to the point of gentle, comforting numbness, another one of those domestic moments that had her feeling absolutely conflicted.

And then, he said, "Actually... I think I know exactly who you should talk to..."

———

There was a deep chill in her bones as she approached Penelope Garcia's apartment building, but not because of the lively, rustling October wind. In fact, she wanted to throw up at the thought of having this conversation. But not because she didn't want to help Spencer. She did, more than anything.

She was just afraid of being arrested.

Spencer assured her that it would be fine and that Penelope was harmless, and while the latter she could believe, it still nerved her to wander up to a woman's door and announce that she lived in the apartment of her beloved dead co-worker and needed to help him fulfill his destiny as a spirit. It sounded like a cruel joke.

"If anyone would believe you, it would be Penelope," he'd said, comforting her with a pat on the shoulder.

Maybe it was true, but she didn't want to find out if it wasn't. It was one thing to have the door slammed in your face by a grief-stricken loved one, but a grief-stricken loved one who worked for the fucking FBI was ten times worse; There were a lot more horrifying outcomes that came with that combination.

Still, she trusted Spencer on a level she'd barely trusted anyone else, and he wasn't even alive for God's sake... So she strapped on her boots, threw on her most comfortable jacket, and braced the wind and whatever fate blew with it.

For Spencer.

"For Spencer," she muttered under her breath as she rapped on the door. Three times. Third time's the charm, three's a crowd, three clicks of the heel and you're home... Three seemed like a lucky number. Three was inviting, friendly, not intended to inflict emotional damage.

Please, God, don't let her hate me, Y/N prayed to whoever was listening. Don't let this go horribly wrong.

A bright voice was yelling beyond the door, and with every millisecond that it got louder and closer, her heart started to beat faster. Blood thrummed in her ears, and she kept repeating, "For Spencer, for Spencer, for Spencer," on a loop to remind her why she was going through all this anxiety.

The voice got closer, but still muffled, until the door swung open. Then it stopped altogether. Y/N blinked and stood there with a stiff back and sweaty palms, in front of Penelope Garcia. The woman was obviously expecting somebody else to be at the door, but she didn't look disappointed, just confused.

"Oh. You're not Luke. How can I help you?"

"Um... My name is Y/N. I... Before I tell you why I'm here, I need you to know that I'm not trying to play a trick on you, and I don't want to make you sad or upset, and if there's anything you need or want to know about me in order to trust me, then I'll gladly give you that information, but this is really important and I need you to know that I'm not crazy or harmful, I just want to help him."

Penelope's eyes went wide as she reached out and grabbed her hand. The thrumming in her ears got louder as she took a deep breath and waited for the yelling to start, her body to be thrown to the ground, or a sharp piercing sting of a backhand.

The only thing she felt, however, was a tug at her heart and the gentle dissipation of nerves as Penelope spoke one simple word.

"Spencer."

"How... How did you know?"

"Ever since he... Since he's been... I just knew something didn't feel right. Everyone told me that it was just grief, and for a while that's also what I told myself, but... That feeling was just too... Wait, who did you say you were again?"

Y/N stuttered her name and gripped Penelope's hand tighter, hoping to create some rapport. "I live in his apartment. He's been... Visiting me."

Something in her eyes softened and then saddened at the confirmation that her friend was somehow still among the living. "A visitor in his own home... Poor Boy Genius..."

She couldn't help but smile at the nickname. "He said you called him that often..."

Wide eyes welling with tears, Penelope nodded and tugged at her visitor's hand. "He was the smartest person I ever knew. Kindest, too. Here, come on inside, I'll make you some tea. Do you like tea? Maybe some hot chocolate?"

Her hospitality as she ushered her inside was both comforting and saddening to Y/N. It was in her nature to be that way to guests, even strangers, sure, but it also acted as a shield from the somber feelings she'd been rushed with at a moment's notice, no thanks to said stranger.

"I'm so sorry to bother you, Penelope," Y/N rushed as she shrugged her coat off. "You don't have to make me anything."

"Oh, I know I don't have to, but would you like something warm to drink?"

She was practically begging for the distraction, something to do with her hands as she had time to process and prepare for what was about to happen.

"Tea would be lovely, thank you."

"Perfect, I'll get it started. Make yourself comfortable, Sweets."

She carried her coat over her arms, holding it to her chest like a tether to reality. None of this felt real, even though she could still feel the warm glow of Spencer's energy all around her, like it had burrowed into the pores of her skin and made a home there.

As she looked around at Penelope's bright and colorful space, she thought about him... How often had he been here? What did they do together, and where did they hang out? She imagined the laughter and the stories and the cooking... She wished she would have known him then, been a part of his life. As scary as he told her it was at times, she knew there were also plenty of bright spots, and she knew Penelope was definitely one of the brightest.

Y/N smiled, hugging her coat tighter.

"I like your apartment," she complimented, sitting down at a small dining table in the corner.

"Thank you! I always told Spencer he should get some more color, but... What can I say, he really loved his neutrals."

The familiar detail brought a smile to her face. "That doesn't surprise me. He told me that even though he likes me, he really hates my floral couch and that it looked weird in his apartment. I told him he was boring." And, that technically, it was her apartment now. In fact, her exact words after the fact were, "What are you going to do, haunt me?" before they both laughed and continued making out on said couch.

But she didn't need to remind Penelope of the fact that he was gone. Or to inform her that she was intimately involved with his ghost.

Just the thought alone was enough to make the low, ever-present hum of his imprinted memory on her skin even more intense, and she smiled.

"Oh... I know that look."

Y/N looked up at Penelope, who was grinning with the most mischievous gleam in her eye.

"What look?"

"You think he's cute, don't you?"

"I... I don't..."

"Well, I suppose even if you can't see him, I'm sure he's charmed you anyway. And you probably Googled him."

"How did you—"

"It's what I would have done... So?" she prompted, still waiting for an answer of some kind.

Y/N sighed, defeated and impressed by Penelope's skills at quickly retrieving information. But she also didn't want to lie to her, so she had no choice but to answer her questions with the truth anyway. "Well, I can see him. But I couldn't at first. My um... My friends came over one night, and they brought a Ouija board. We used it for shits and giggles because I'd joked to them after I moved in that I didn't feel totally alone, and well..."

"It wasn't a joke?"

Penelope brought over the tea, steaming and aromatic. Y/N took it with a nod of thanks and sighed as she sat down across from her.

"No. But I didn't actually think I was living with a ghost, I mean... I didn't believe in that stuff. But I also wasn't going to risk pissing him off, so I tried to be nice to him. I only knew his name, and then my friends looked him up and we read his obituary, and... I don't know, I guess I just thought he seemed like a good person, so he deserved some kindness in the afterlife. I said hello to the air every time I came home from work, I yelled out a good night before going to bed... And then he started leaving me notes on my bathroom mirror, and I guess... I don't know, the more he and I got to know each other, the easier things became. Eventually he could touch things, and then soon after he was audible, then visible..."

She conveniently left out the details of that journey, though her skin warmed again at the memory.

"And now that we can communicate, it's become clear to me that he doesn't know where he's going— Why he's not at rest... I feel bad for him. He deserves..." Her breath caught in her throat, and she swallowed hard before looking down at the mug in her hand. "He deserves to move on."

Penelope was quiet for a moment as Y/N sipped her tea. Her hand reached out to grab hers, and the gesture almost had her in tears.

"You sound... Sad about that."

She couldn't help the pressure that pulsed behind her eyes, stabbing at her throat... Still, she made herself speak, barely above a whisper to prevent that inevitable cracking of the voice that would surely break the dam she was trying so hard to keep still and strong. "I... I know it sounds absolutely crazy..."

"You're falling in love with him."

Though the words didn't come from her own mouth, they came flying at her like a sucker punch to the gut. The wind was knocked out of her for a moment, until all she could do was exhale and let the tears fall silently as she nodded.

Penelope let her cry for a minute or two without a word while holding her hand, until she was ready to elaborate. "But I can't... I can't keep him here, it's not right. If he doesn't have any unfinished business, then he should be put to rest. And I... I don't know how to help him. I thought maybe, if I could talk to the people who knew him the best... I could get an idea."

"Oh, Honey, I... I'm sorry, but I don't know any more than you do." She was talking through tears herself, and Y/N squeezed her hand back. "His mother's been gone for years now, and there's no other family that he was close enough with to even consider, other than us, but... Truthfully I don't know if we really count in the grand scheme of things... I'd like to think that we do..."

"You might not be blood-related, but you were his family. He loved you so much, I could tell by the way he spoke about all of you. He... He misses you a lot. I just wish he didn't have to feel that loss anymore."

Penelope frowned. "I wish I could give you an answer... When you go back to him... Will you at least tell him that we love him?"

"He already knows. But yes. I will."

"And I'll keep on thinking. Whatever you need, you got it. I have access to pretty much everything so if there's information to be had, I will get my paws on it, and you will know. Thank you for coming to see me. And for telling me that Spencer's okay... He is okay, right?"

Y/N hesitated. She wasn't entirely sure how to answer without giving away their extra-curricular activities. "I think so. He's tired, I can tell. But I do my best to keep him happy. The last thing I need is to have him angrily haunting me."

Penelope laughed, then sighed. "Unfortunately, I think that means you better get rid of that glorious couch, then."

The laughter was a welcome break from the tears, which had already started to dry on her skin, leaving her cheeks itchy. "I really appreciate you being so kind, Penelope... Losing Spencer must have been absolutely impossible, and having a complete stranger show up at your door and pour salt in the wound... I couldn't imagine..."

"Y/N... If there was any person on this planet who could have moved into his apartment and helped him through this... I think I speak for the whole BAU when I say that he's lucky it's you."

The sentiment made her chest tight, and an involuntary pout tugged at her mouth. "You... You really mean that?"

Penelope laughed and squeezed her hand again. "Oh, Darling, you even pout like him... You're kind of perfect for each other."

"I don't know whether to be happy or sad about that," she replied through a fit of hysterics, and Penelope joined her.

It was clear then that these two women were meant to bond seamlessly over the loss of someone dear, one in life and the other in death. They were two sides of the same coin, a best friend and an anchor to the other side. It was a solace that neither of them had expected, but welcomed with open arms and warm understanding.

They exchanged stories and laughs and phone numbers and hugs, and joked about exchanging addresses, and a while later, just as Y/N was about to go home, fastening her coat, Penelope stopped her.

"Wait... I don't mean to make you sad or anything, and maybe this isn't the answer that either of you were looking for... But after today? If I didn't know any better, I'd say that Spencer's unfinished business is you."

The thought froze her entirely. It would stand to reason that they were meant to find each other, only to let each other go. Because, of course. Nobody was ever that lucky, especially neither Spencer nor his new roommate.

Sensing her overthinking, Penelope continued. "I know it's unfortunate given the circumstances, but... You did say that the more you got to know him, the more... alive he became. At least as alive as he can be. And I've only known you for about an hour, but I can confidently say that you are about as perfect for Spencer as somebody could be for anybody. And..."

She shifted on her feet, unsure of whether she should actually say what she was about to tell her, but obviously needing to make her point with as much context as possible. "You know, he's tried. He watched many of us find love and have families of our own, and he's always wanted that, but... He never got to have it. I think... that was the one thing that he always truly and completely wanted, especially after his mom passed and he had no one left but us... Somebody to go home to, somebody who understood him and cared about him and wanted to spend the rest of their lives with him... A soulmate. And... Y/N, I think it might be you."

Her head was swimming and tears were blurring her vision again. As much as she wanted to believe it, ever the lover of grand romantic endings, it didn't make sense. She didn't really believe in soulmates, did she? Then again, she didn't believe in ghosts, either, until recently...

"How could you possibly know that?" she whispered to Penelope, hoping for a switch in her brain to flip. She wanted to believe it. She wanted to dash home and confidently confess to the ghost living in her apartment that they were made for each other and that she could finally set him free.

And... Then what?

There had to be another explanation.

"I wish I could tell you how, definitively," Penelope answered sadly, "and like I said, I don't want to upset you... But it's just a feeling. And my feelings are hardly ever wrong. Hey, I mean I had a feeling that Spencer was still out there somehow, and that turned out to be true, right?"

"I... I guess," she sniffled.

"Just... Do me a favor, okay? Think about it. Spend tonight with him, like you normally do, and really really think about it. And tell me you don't feel it."

It almost sounded like a playful challenge rather than a request. Y/N wiped at her eyes and sighed. "You're really sure?"

"Positive."

Y/N wasn't really sure if she believed it still, but there was a conviction in Penelope's voice that was too sincere to ignore. And Spencer trusted her, which obviously meant a lot.

So, she promised that she would think about it anyway, bade her new friend farewell, and made her way outside, where the wind had died and left the streets lifeless and quiet.

———

Something was different about Y/N when she came home.

Spencer tried to let her go about the night and refrain from saying anything, but after regretfully informing him that Penelope had no wisdom to offer her about their situation but would get back to her if anything did come to mind, she was... odd. Perhaps she was just as tired as he was in trying to solve this mystery, or just tired in general. But he didn't want to push her if she didn't want to open up, so he did what he could and offered his company.

Still, she didn't seem right.

He thought maybe a flurry of warm, tender kisses along her skin would put her in high spirits, but the longer she let him worship her skin without so much as a sigh in return, it started to sink in that something was deeply wrong.

"Are you okay?" he asked sweetly, stroking her jaw with the back of his hand as he looked her in the eye. She looked at him for only a few seconds before averting her gaze, like if she allowed him to meet her eyes for any longer, he'd pull something from her that she'd rather not share. It sent a small wave of panic through him. "Y/N, talk to me, please... What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"No," she said unconvincingly.

"You don't... have to talk about it if you don't want to... But you're upset about something, and I want to help you. I'll do whatever you need me to. I'll listen, I'll leave you alone, I'll kiss it better... Whatever you want. It's yours."

She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, defeated. "God, you FBI people are too good at getting information out of people, it's annoying."

Spencer laughed. "It wasn't my intention to make you feel interrogated. I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm just... I'm..."

She couldn't seem to get out the words, like there was a frustrating lack of understanding how to convey them. He drew continuous circles gently into her palm and waited patiently for her to open up, silently promising that he would be there for her when she finally found the right words.

It was a question that she finally settled on. "Have you ever been in love? Like... Really in love?"

Something inside him jolted at the thought of where this conversation might lead. If he had a heartbeat, it would have raced and thrummed so heavily that the organ might have failed. In truth, he'd been thinking about it for a week or two now. Ever since the night he realized that his interactions with her were the key to becoming more sentient, the thought crossed his mind that perhaps she was the thing he was tethered to.

He didn't dare say it out loud, or to her face, because... Well, it was too soon, wasn't it? And it wouldn't have mattered anyway, because once he was lain to rest, they could never be together.

It was complicated.

"I think I was, a few times," he finally answered in earnest. "And to be fair, just because things didn't work out with them, it doesn't mean I didn't really love them. I did. But... I think deep down I knew they weren't really The One... Does that make sense?"

"I think so... I don't think I've ever been in love before. Even with long-term partners, we said the words, and I felt something that was happy and I thought was love, but..." She paused, avoiding his eye again before rapidly blinking back tears. "Now I feel this... this anchor to you that I can't let go of... I want to be around you all the time and I know it's not fair because you deserve to rest, but I can't help it. Spencer, I... You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. And I'm afraid that once I really admit it out loud, you'll be gone forever."

He knew, then, that this was it. Listening intently as she confessed, absorbing every word and allowing himself to feel and admit what he knew to be true for a while now, his body began to tingle. It was so dull at first, he almost mistook the feeling for 'butterflies'. It felt cruel not to tell her that he was starting to fade, but he didn't want to ruin the moment or panic her. He didn't want to tell her that she was running out of time. That they were running out of time.

So, instead, to try and ease the blow, he told her something sweet.

He told her, "I love you."

Her eyes glossed over at the confession. She reached urgently for his hands, her grip strong and willing like she knew what was going to happen. And maybe she did. Still, she sat there and listened to him, her eyes taking in every inch of his presence and committing him to memory.

He aimed to make it a memory she would never forget.

"I don't know when we'll see each other again, but I don't doubt that we will. Not for a second. And until then, my only wish is that you keep allowing yourself to fall in love. Don't be afraid of it. You shouldn't deny yourself just because I'm gone. Can you promise me that you'll try?"

Y/N blinked away tears and tugged at his hands. "What if I can't?"

"You will, my sweet girl. And I promise, I won't be mad at you."

She laughed despite herself, then almost cried again when she felt his presence start to fizzle and break in front of her eyes. She was desperate to hold on to him, clutching his hands for dear life and breathlessly whispering, "I love you, Spencer Reid," as if the conviction alone would be enough to keep him here. As if whatever cruel deity was putting them through this would see how much she needed him and decided to spare her the misery.

"I wish I could have known you when I was alive," he told her, leaning in closer. "Maybe we could have been neighbors."

She smiled through tears and pressed her forehead to his, the contact making her skin go numb. Silently she hoped that wherever he was going, she would be sucked in with him. "Then I would have invited you over for dinner."

He squeezed her hands, already feeling his grip fading, his essence nearly numbing him. Still, he willed himself to stay long enough to paint this life for the two of them—one they would never get to have, except only in dreams and perhaps in another life entirely. Anything was possible, after all.

"And I still would have made fun of your ugly couch."

"And I would have pushed you onto it and made you take it back."

"And I would have refused."

"And I would have kissed you ."

"And I would have kissed you back."

"And I would have fallen in love with you immediately."

"And I would have sworn that I'd fall in love with you in every universe."

She closed her eyes, feeling the very last remnants of his presence as she whispered, "I think it's safe to assume that you already have."

"And I think I'm inclined to agree."

THE END

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid #mercy after hours

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worm--thing · 2 years ago

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Time for my one annual original post I guess because I just finally finished (kinda) these damn things and I think they're funny.

Here's some other miscellaneous bullshit also

#a rare original post #the earrings are unfinished because i wanna get proper beads that are the right colours instead of painting them badly #also i wanna use something better than just paper #theyve been sitting on my pc without labels for like six months because i haven't had to use my printer until yesterday #you get no context for the jar and graph fuck you

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heart-of-the-morningstar · 7 months ago

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✨Lead Us Into Temptation✨

The poll didn't even finish before I started working on this lmao, hope you enjoy my first take on some very soft dom Luci!

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: You were a devout believer in life, but somehow you ended up in Hell with no real explanation. Most nights you can be found sitting on a bar stool in the lobby, trying to cope with what's happened to you. But one night while in an intoxicated state, you reveal your most hidden desires to the King himself...

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Warnings: smut, 18+, reader first time, hand job, fingering, tail play, oral (m & f receiving), p in v

"That's it, I'm cuttin' you off for tonight," Husk said sternly, whisking away your unfinished glass of whiskey. You'd been at the bar for only an hour and you've already downed five full glasses.

"Noooo, Husk c'mon...I'm fffffiiiinnee," you babbled, trying to push your head from the countertop unsuccessfully.

It's been a few months since you arrived in Hell after an unfortunate accident that ended in your early demise. But being a devout believer, you were so sure that Heaven would be your final destination. How wrong you were. You woke up in the fiery pit confused and scared, your body had transformed into that of a demon; you had become something you had feared for your entire life. When you first heard about the Hazbin Hotel, you nearly jumped at the opportunity for redemption. If there was even the slightest hope of getting out of here, you were going to take it. But your situation was more than troublesome, considering how you led your life up on Earth. On most nights, you could easily be found sitting on a bar stool, trying desperately to drown your sorrows and distract yourself from the reality you'd found yourself in.

What's worse...not everyone here is evil. It was ingrained into you that everyone down here in Hell deserved to be, they had earned this punishment. But getting to know some of the other residents at the hotel, that couldn't have been further from the truth! Was everything you were taught just a complete lie?! For Heaven's sake, Charlie, the literal princess of Hell, was the sweetest and kindest being you've ever had the pleasure of meeting! And Vaggie, a former angel, so devout to Charlie and her dream, you've never seen two people more in love. Angel, although a bit eccentric and over the top, cared deeply for his friends and was ready to fight for them at a moment's notice. It was all...not what you expected, and you had a very difficult time coping with everything that you had been thrust into.

"You're shit faced," Husk snapped back. "Look, I know you're havin' a hard time with all this. But drinking away your issues ain't gonna solve any of 'em. You need to sleep this off." He watched you stumble off the bar stool, your one foot catching the other, resulting in a rather pitiful fall onto the carpet. But you couldn't feel anything, the alcohol helped mask the pain you were sure to feel tomorrow. You couldn't help but giggle at your own clumsiness. "Oh, for fuck's sake..." Husk grumbled.

Before you could even attempt to pull yourself off the ground, you saw a pair of black boots approaching you in a rather hurried manner.

"Woah!" the voice exclaimed, "Are you alright? Here, let me help you!" In no time, your limp body went from lying on the lobby floor to being hoisted up and helped back onto the bar stool you fell from. You turned your head to see Lucifer's concerned face staring back at you. "Husk, what happened?"

"She's drunk," the cat demon explained, "I told her she was done drinkin' for the night and she ate shit trying to stand up. I was about to help her back to her room-"

All of a sudden, a shadowy presence started to form behind the bar. A static filled laugh was heard before Alastor had popped up, startling the bar tender. "Husker, my good man!," the radio demon bellowed, "it seems as though I am in need of your assistance."

"Fuck! Why can't you just walk in here like a normal fucking person?" Husk grumbled.

Alastor only responded with a light chuckle before fixing his attention on you. "My, my, what have we here?" Alastor taunted. You could have sworn you heard a low growl coming from Lucifer beside you. "I say, my dear, I've never seen you look worse than you do now. What a pity, all of those teachings really didn't help you in the long run, now did they?"

You felt tears threatening to fall from your eyes at Alastor's cruel words. If you were sober, you would have run the other direction as fast as you could. Alastor had been the other real soul you met who you knew with every fiber of your being belonged in this pit. But considering you had no inhibitions and clearly no chance of getting away, you picked your head up and slammed your fists on the table in righteous anger.

"Ohhh, eat shit youuuu *hic* smiling prick!" You tried to stand up once more, only for your legs to buckle underneath you. Luckily, Lucifer had caught you before your face had met with the carpet again. "I-I don't deserve this! 'Least I'm TRYING to redeem m'self!"

Alastor's malicious grin never faltered. "Oh, and what a fabulous job you're doing! I do wonder how a woman such as yourself has fallen so far from grace."

"Fuck off, radio freak," Lucifer snarled, barring his teeth and his eyes shifting to a deep crimson red and yellow.

“Oh, ho ho! Seems as though I’ve struck a nerve,” Alastor mocked. He made his way around the bar, now towering over you and the fallen angel. “Tell me, your highness, what is your fascination with this lost soul, hmm? I’m so utterly curious as to why you would give her the time of day when all she does is wallow in her self-pity and-”

“I. SAID. FUCK. OFF.” the king spat, his eyes now changing into a solid red and his voice deepening to match his threat. Though your vision was hazy, you noticed his horns had burst out from his temples. Whether it was the alcohol or something else entirely, your face suddenly felt very, very hot. “Don’t make me repeat myself again.”

Despite the immense danger, Alastor could only muster a sly grin. “It’s very rude to ignore my question.”

“I don’t have to do anything for you! Or have you forgotten who you’re talking to?” The way Lucifer spoke sent a shiver down your spine. “The only reason that you’re not a mangled corpse on the ground right now is because of my daughter. So, if you want to stay in one piece, I’d walk away right now if I were you…”

The two men's faces were just inches away from each other now. Alastor’s eye twitched as he glared back at Lucifer with pure distain. His eyes shifted to you only for a brief moment before standing up straight and smirking to himself.

“I suppose it really is no business of mine as to how you choose to mingle with the guests here,” the radio demon resolved. He turned around to walk away, but not before glancing at you once more over his shoulder. “They’re lost causes anyway. Come along, Husker!”

Lucifer’s demonic traits disappeared as Alastor finally left the parlor. “I hate that man.” He looked at Husk empathetically. “If I could break your arrangement with him, I would. I’m sorry. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of her.” With that, Husk nodded and followed the radio demon down the hall, leaving you and Lucifer alone at the now empty bar.

You started to bawl as you clung to Lucifer for support. Immediately, he rushed you over to the couch and sat you down next to him, letting you cry into the crook of his neck.

"Hey, hey, shh," Lucifer soothed. "It's alright. Alastor won't bother you anymore, I'll make sure of it."

"It's n-not him," you sniffled, "it's everything! Al-stor's right, there's no savin' me."

Lucifer pulled you away from him, placing a hand under your chin as he looked into your glassy eyes. "Now what makes you say that?"

Another tear rolled down your face. "Is like he said, what I was taught up there...nothing's true! Welllll, except..." you placed your hand over the one holding your face tenderly. "Theeeyyyyy did say that you, Luciferrrr, were heaven's prettiest angel. They def-liny didn't lie about that!"

You noticed a small blush creep across Lucifer's face at your words. He pulled his and away from your face to clear his throat, glancing away from you. "T-Thank you. That's umm, very kind of you."

You chuckled to yourself, scootching your body closer him. "Do you mind if I *hic*, lay down, jus' for a sec. Gettin' sleepy.

"Yeah, of course!" Lucifer smiled, but only for a moment. "W-Wait, hold on!"

But by the time he tried to warn you, your head had already fallen into his lap. You smiled up at the flustered man and chuckled, the heat returning to your face once more. "You got soft legs, hehe!"

Lucifer inhaled sharply. "Husk was right, you really are drunk. Wouldn't you feel more comfortable laying your head on a pillow?"

"Nnnnope!" you replied.

"Alright then," the king breathed and massaged the back of his neck, doing his best to hide how tense he'd become from your sudden closeness.

"H-Hey," you called up to him, "why'd youuu...why'd you protect me jus' now? From Al-stor. You *hic* didn't have to..."

He looked down at you softly, brushing away the hair that had fallen in your face. "I don't like bullies. You didn't deserve that, and Alastor knows that for his sake that he shouldn't get on my bad side."

"Never seen you so mad." you mumbled.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," he apologized, continuing to play with you hair. "I don't like bringing out that side of me. But Alastor really likes to push his luck for some bizarre reason."

"Awww," you pouted, "is too bad. I liked seeing that side of ya. It was HOT!"

Lucifer stopped his movements completely. “I-I’m sorry?”

“You heard me,” you responded poking at his chest. “What? Did ya think jus’ cuz I was a believer when I was alive that I’d be SCARED of ya? Maybe at first. Not anymore! I’m already in Hell soooo there’s no point in hidin’ it, is there?”

“Hiding what, exactly?” Lucifer gulped as if he was almost too afraid to ask.

You giggles and hid your face with your hands. “Noooo, you’re jus’ gonna laugh at meeee!”

Lucifer let out an amused hum. He gently took ahold of your wrists and lowered your hands away from your now completely beet-colored face. “I promise I won’t laugh at you, my dear. You’ve very much piqued my curiosity! And I’m very good at keeping secrets, you know! So please, let me keep yours.” He let go of your wrists, letting your hands fall onto your chest. You watched as he leaned closer to you, his half-lidded eyes piercing your very soul. “Won’t you tell me, my sweet angel?”

"I...*hic* I umm..." you babbled. It was clear that you were struggling to answer.

"Mind if I take a guess?" Lucifer offered as he went back to playing with your loose locks of hair. "Is it possible that you have a little crush on-"

"I WAN' YOU TO FUCK ME STUPID TILL I CAN'T 'MEMBER MY NAME!" you blurted out without any reservations.

"-me..." Lucifer froze at your confession. You could hear the sound of a pin drop with the deafening silence that now filled the air. With a big inhale, he straightened his back fully, placing both of his hands under you in a flash, not daring to look down at you. "Well, I-I think it's about time we got you to bed!" he nearly shouted as he scooped you up in his arms and stood up faster than normal.

You let out a small squeak of surprise with his sudden motion. With a snap of his fingers, a portal appeared next to you and he quickly carried you across the threshold and into your dimly lit room. With a flick of his wrist, your bedsheets were undone and Lucifer was able to lay you down gently onto your mattress. He reached over you to grab your undone comforter and pulled it on top of you, covering everything but your head.

"Okay! Uhh, s-sleep well!" Lucifer went to run through the portal, but not before you were able to grab his sleeve.

"D-Did I upset you?" you asked nearly on the verge of tears again? Lucifer still hadn't looked at you.

"N-No! No, angel, you didn't upset me!" he tried to sooth you, but you weren't buying it. You couldn't stop more tears running down your face. When Lucifer heard your quiet cries, he finally turned towards you in a state of sheer panic. "Ahh, no!" He kneeled down next to you, wiping your tears away with his free hand. "Please don't cry! I promise I'm not upset!"

"Knew it was stupid...," you sobbed, "shouldn't have told you..."

"Don't say that," the fallen angel cooed. "Okay, okay, look...If uhh, we're admitting things right now, I might as well too. Would that make you feel better?"

You sniffled a bit. "M-Maybe..."

Lucifer shut his eyes and let out a deep sigh. "I've had...similar feelings...about you, that is. So...no more tears, okay?"

You stared at the man before you, completely and utterly baffled by what you had just heard. "R-Really?"

"Yes," he whispered. "But we can talk about this tomorrow, yeah? You need some sleep; it looks like you're about to pass out."

He was right. Your eyelids felt as though they could give out at any moment, and the warmth from your blanket wasn't helping you stay conscious either. As Lucifer stood up, you still clung to his sleeve like your life depended on it. "Stay?" you almost begged.

He smiled weakly, taking your hand from his sleeve, and placing a small peck on the back of it. "Not tonight," he responded. "Sleep now, darling. I'll see you when you wake." You couldn't find the strength to respond, letting yourself drift off to sleep as Lucifer left you to dream.

Little did you know that he had disappeared to take a very cold shower.

****

When you regained consciousness, you felt the familiar pounding in your head after a heavy night of drinking. Begrudgingly you dragged yourself out of you bed and forced your way to your bathroom for a much needed shower. You realized when you glanced towards the mirror that you never changed out of your clothes from yesterday. In fact, you don't even remember how you got back to your room last night, Everything was such a blur, and it hurt to think with the major headache you were experiencing at the moment. The last thing you could recall was falling off the bar stool, the pain you felt in your shoulder was enough of a reminder. Once you stepped in the hot shower, you felt a little better, but only a little bit. You tried to rack your brain for answers, trying to remember exactly what happened after you fell. You ran your fingers through your hair, letting the water soak your aching body. But in doing so, something had clicked. That motion had unlocked a foggy memory. Your hair. Someone had run their hands through your hair last night, but you couldn't for the life of you remember who. It was gentle, soft, tender. But who would do that?

After a few minutes, you stepped out of the shower and threw on one of the sundresses you had hanging in your closet. You really didn't feel like putting a ton of effort into your clothing choices today. Hopefully Charlie would forgive you for skipping out on her planned activity today and let you recover. You realized after that initially thought that you didn't even know what time is was. Chances were you had already missed it. With a groan, you plopped down back onto the mattress, your hair still damp.

"What's the matter with me," you asked yourself. "How do I expect to be redeemed when all I do is sabotage my chances by getting wasted every night?" Your headache persisted as you laid in your bed, you almost wanted to cry from the pain. But then, you heard a soft knocking at your door. Charlie, you thought. More than likely she was checking in on you to make sure you were alright. "I'll be there in a second!" you called out. The volume of your own voice didn't help your hangover in the slightest. You grabbed one of the small pillows off your bed for comfort and trudged your way to your door. "I'm really sorry I slept in Charlie," you spoke as you turned the door handle, "it was a...really rough night for me and I-" you stopped completely once you opened the door fully. Charlie, in fact, was not the one who had knocked.

"Yeah, you really did get put through the ringer last night, didn't you?" Lucifer smiled at you. The pillow you held fell to the floor with a soft thud.

“Oh, I-I’m so sorry, sir!” You stuttered. “I-I thought you were Charlie! Did-Did she send you?”

Lucifer looked at you with a puzzled stare. “Uhh, no, no she didn’t. I told her what happened last night and let her know I’d check in on you like I promised.”

“Promised?” you asked, but Lucifer didn’t seem to hear you.

“And you don’t have to refer to me as “sir,” my dear, “Lucifer” is just fine! I mean, you used my name just fine last night!”

Your heart stopped. “L-Last night? Oh no…what…what happened last night?”

Lucifer gawked at your question. “Wait, do you not remember anything?” You shook your head timidly. “Oh dear…well, nothing bad happened, I promise! What’s the last thing you can remember doing?”

You looked down at the floor sheepishly, embarrassed to admit the real answer. “The last thing I can remember is falling off the bar stool and…landing on my face…”

Lucifer stood there and pondered for a few seconds before speaking again. “Do you mind if I come in?”

“Oh, umm, yeah, y-you can come in,” you agreed. You picked up the pillow you had dropped and opened the door for Lucifer to saunter in. “I’m sorry I look like a mess right now, I-I just got out of the shower and my hair isn’t completely dry yet and-”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright!” Lucifer interrupted. “You don’t need to apologize. You look lovely, in any case.”

You brought the pillow in your hands up to your face in an attempt to hide your blush. “T-Thank you,” your muffled voice came through the pillow. "I-If you want, you can sit down on my b-ahh fuck!" One hand came up to your forehead when you felt your head pounding from the pressure that's been building since you woke up. This was definitely one of your worst hangovers to date.

"Oh! Are you alright?" Lucifer asked, his voice laced with deep concern.

"My head..." you choked out. You made your way over to your bed, crawling up to the top and cradling the pillow in your arms "Hangovers are never really kind to me."

Lucifer frowned, seating himself down on the edge of your mattress next to you. You felt your face flare up again when you looked up at his worried expression. "Can I help you? I can alleviate the pain. You only need ask."

"Y-you can?"

"Sure! Angelic power and all that." His hand hovered just above your forehead. "May I?"

"Yes," you breathed. With that, you felt his soft hand make contact with your aching head. You felt a warm tingling sensation emanating from his touch. It didn't hurt nor was it unpleasant, it was healing. Without thinking, you leaned further into his touch, letting the warmth spread throughout your entire body. Your headache slowly began to fade away along with the fogginess that had been plaguing you since you woke up. As his touch lingered, you realized you were able to think more clearly than before, memories from last night started to become clearer and clearer. You remembered Lucifer had come to your rescue after you'd fallen. You remembered Alastor had shown up to mock you in your drunken stupor, only for Lucifer to step in and defend you. You remember sobbing with Lucifer while he comforted you. Then you remembered...

You shot straight up, your heart racing a million miles a second, with Lucifer throwing his hand back in surprise. "What? What happened? Did I hurt you?" Lucifer asked in a panic.

"I'm..." you began, "I'm starting to remember things from last night." You clutched the pillow tight to your chest, refusing to look in the fallen angel's direction. "Please tell me I didn't actually lay down in your lap..."

"Uhh, well...," You could tell from his response that that's exactly what had happened.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" you apologized. "I shouldn't have done that! I-I know I drank way too much last night, I should have stopped, I didn't realize that-"

Lucifer's hand immediately flew to your shoulder in an attempt to get you to stop you from completely spiraling. "Darling, you don't need to apologize for that! You weren't feeling great so you just, ya know, used me as a pillow. And besides, it's not like I disliked it either."

"W-What?!" you nearly shrieked. Another realization had hit you just then. "You! You were the one that was playing with my hair! That's the only thing I could remember when I woke up!" You buried your face in the pillow once more. "If I said anything embarrassing..."

You heard Lucifer swallow hard. "I guess uhh, it depends on your definition of the word."

"Oh God, please no..." you pleaded. "What did I say?"

Lucifer held up his hand again as an offering, a weary smile on his face. "I can help you to remember, if you wish."

You let out a shaky breath but nodded in agreement. Lucifer's hand once again found its way to your forehead, a familiar warmth flowing through you once more. You closed your eyes and saw the images from last night flash before you. You saw yourself looking up at Lucifer who'd just asked you to tell him your little secret. But as soon as you remembered the drunken words that flew from your mouth at that moment, your eyes shot open and you flung yourself to the opposite side of the bed, as far away from Lucifer as possible.

"No. No! Nononononono!" you panicked, "I didn't-I mean I couldn't have, I...NO!" You couldn't stop yourself from crying into the pillow, ashamed and embarrassed at the thought of your past actions. "This is a nightmare..."

You felt the bed shifting beneath you as Lucifer crawled toward you hesitantly. "I'm sorry," he murmured behind you, "I know you must be feeling a lot of different emotions right now, but it's alr-"

"NO, IT'S NOT ALRIGHT!" You snapped, jumping from the bed in an attempt to put as much distance between you and him as possible. Your rage was quickly replaced with remorse when you saw Lucifer's shocked, almost hurt expression. You took a deep breath before speaking again. "I didn't mean you scream at you like that, I'm sorry...but you don't understand..."

"Then help me understand," Lucifer asked, now kneeling on the bed. "Please?"

You looked away from him and down to the ground, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest at the thought of explaining yourself to the literal king of Hell. "I...I grew up in church. I was raised as a believer. Told to be a “good girl." I was taught my entire life that Hell was a place to be feared, a place where the most evil of people end up. And I would be wise to fear it as well and repent so I would not end up there...uhh, here. That clearly didn't help me now, did it?" You let yourself drop to the bed again, letting your legs dangle over the sides. "My entire worldview just seemed to crumble around me when I started staying here at the hotel. Sure, there are some awful people here, but...it feels as though this "divine judgement" is...just completely fucked up! The guests here are better people than most believers I knew when I was alive! How is that right? How is that fair?!"

"Well," Lucifer interjected, "I can tell you first hand that Heaven is definitely not what it seems. I mean, have you seen the things they've said about me in that book of theirs?" he laughed, trying his best to lighten the mood.

You twisted your head over your shoulder, staring back at him with complete intensity. "And you!" You shot back up on your feet in an instant, pacing back and forth as Lucifer watched you completely mesmerized. "Where do I even start with you? You're Lucifer, the devil himself, the great deceiver, and temptation incarnate! Everything I was ever told about you is bullshit! You've been nothing but hospitable ever since I've been here! You protected me from Alastor last night! You took care of me while I was drunk! You didn't have to do any of those things, you shouldn't have done any of those things! You're not evil and it's...it's driving me to the brink! When Charlie had told me that you were her father, I was PETRIFIED! But nothing could have prepared me for finding out who you really were."

Lucifer slowly crawled towards you, climbing off the bed and now standing before you, perhaps just a tad too close for your comfort. "And who am I?" he asked softly.

Instinctively, your body drew itself closer and closer to his, as if you had no control of your movements anymore. "You're...an angel," you sighed.

Lucifer smiled at you, timidly resting his hand on your forehead. "Would you like to remember the rest of last night?"

"I already embarrassed myself enough to the point of no return so I might as well," you huffed shyly.

Lucifer chuckled, "Don't worry, the worst is over. But at least now you'll get to remember my favorite part."

The last of your aches in your body finally subsided as you let the rest of your previously forgotten memories flood your mind. It made sense that Lucifer would have been the one to bring you back to your room. Seeing yourself cry was not surprising to you, but what was surprising was Lucifer's admittance of reciprocated desires. You opened your eyes at last to the angel's sheepish grin. You took a half step away from him, your face feeling like the core of a raging volcano.

"You...you really..." was all you could muster.

"I'm not above embarrassing myself either, my dear," he joked, "I'd say we're even now."

"T-That's not even remotely close to being even!" you babbled.

Lucifer grinned and closed the gap between the two of you, taking one of your hands in his. "Regardless," he mused, "I meant what I said. Every word. And if you'd like to discuss this further, I'd be more than happy to listen." He pressed a small peck to the back of your hand just as he did last night. Even though your hangover had completely vanished, the brain fog had come back in full force. Maybe Lucifer was truly temptation incarnate.

"I-I can't believe this," you stutter, pulling your hand away from his and throwing yourself back onto your bed and covering your reddened face with your hands. "This has to be a dream, there's no way this is real! I'm sure I'm still passed out drunk right now! You're not supposed to be this way! You're supposed to be cruel and wicked and manipulative! Not..."

"Suave and oh so devilishly handsome?" Lucifer smirked.

"You're not helping!" You felt the mattress fold further under Lucifer's weight as he sat down next to you. "So...w-what happens now?"

"I mean, I can think of a few things," he answered smugly. "But in all seriousness, nothing will happen. Not unless you say otherwise."

"See, it's stuff like that!" you shouted, suddenly sitting up right. "Being respectful and considerate, constantly making sure I'm comfortable? That's not who you're supposed to be! I've just been fucking lied to my whole life and I'm PISSED and I'm finding it extremely difficult to not just...just...oh FUCK IT!"

Without warning, you grabbed Lucifer by the collar and crashed your lips into his. He let out a surprised yelp, but you had quickly swallowed it as his shock turned into pure bliss. His hands quickly found your face, cupping them and massaging your red-hot cheeks with his thumbs. Your annoyance had faded almost immediately, your fierce kiss had turned soft and passionate with his tender touch. You were the first to pull away, only to be met with Lucifer's pleading gaze.

"S-So much for being a good girl," Lucifer teased.

You pushed his face away gently. "I hate you!"

"That kiss suggested otherwise, darling."

"You should stop talking," you threatened.

"You should make me," he challenged.

In an instant, you were straddling Lucifer’s lap, your legs flush against his. You gripped the brim of his hat and tossed it to the floor below. You leaned in for another kiss, but this one was hungrier, needier. His lips were soft and you had already become addicted to his taste. You felt his jagged tongue brush against your bottom lip, and you pulled back in shock. “Is your tongue…” Lucifer flashed a cheeky smile and stuck out his tongue playfully. Sure enough, a forked snake tongue hung between his lips. “O-Oh, okay…” You weren’t sure how you never noticed before right now, but your lack of observation skills were the furthest thing from your mind right now. You closed your eyes and leaned in again, your mouth slightly ajar, basically begging for him to invade your mouth. To which Lucifer happily obliged. You felt his tongue slip past your teeth, entangling itself with yours. His hands had shifted down to your hips, kneading and lightly squeezing at your skin underneath your dress. The feeling of his claws pressing into you sent a shiver down your spine. More, more, more was the only thing you could think at the moment. But just as you got used to the feeling of his lips, Lucifer was the one to pull away this time. A tiny whimper escaped you. “Don’t worry, angel,” Lucifer cooed, “we have time. All the time in the world, in fact. I just want to make sure you’re alright. Do you want to keep going?”

The passion you felt was quickly replaced with fear. It hadn’t occurred to you that you had neglected to mention a pretty crucial piece of information. “Yes, I-I do, but umm…I should tell you…”

“Yes?”

“I…haven’t exactly…” you gulped trying to find the right words. “I haven’t been with anyone before…”

“Wait, wait,” Lucifer froze, “you’ve never-”

“No!” You cut him off. “L-Look, when it’s been drilled into your head since you were a child that premarital sex is going to send you to Hell, you’re going to avoid it!”

Lucifer let out a deep sigh, then chuckled to himself. “Okay, I have to admit something. That whole “sex before marriage is a sin” thing miiiiigggghhhhttt be my fault.” You raised an eyebrow. “They never got over the fact that I more or less stole Adam’s first wife. Of course we weren’t married at that point! Heaven’s been petty ever since.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Oh, so it’s YOUR fault that I’m a virgin! Good to know.”

“Forgive me.” Lucifer allowed himself to lay flat on his back, with you following close behind. He raised his head and brought his lips to your ear. “But at your word, I’d be more than happy to rectify this injustice,” he whispered softly.

Goosebumps covered both of your arms at his words. You knew your face must have turned a new shade of red the way Lucifer smirked at you. You lowered yourself on his crotch out of spite and began to grind your hips lethargically. It was your turn to embarrass him. His breath caught in his throat from your motions, you could already feel that your lewd actions were having an effect on the man beneath you. The growing bulge in his pants that you felt on your own clothed heat had you salivating.

"You know, I-I'm not a complete novice," you admitted, your hands now making your way down his jacket, undoing every button with care. "I have a few tricks up my sleeve."

Lucifer pushed you back upright, now straddling his lap once more, and slipped himself out of his undone shirt. Aa you gripped his bare It took everything in your power not to stare at his perfectly toned chest. "And what "tricks"-hngg…would those be?"

You placed a chaste kiss to his lips before sliding off of his lap and kneeling on the floor in front of him. Lucifer's breath hitched instantly at the sight before him. You rested your palms on his inner thighs, your rapid breathing betraying your faux collected exterior. "I figured since I couldn't break the rules, I could at least bend them."

Lucifer firmly gripped the sheets beneath him as he watched your thumbs trace circles near his crotch. "Already on your knees for me, sweetheart?” he teased, running a hand from the top of your head, relishing in the softness of your hair, and down to the tip of your chin. “I didn’t know my powers of temptation would work so well on someone as devout as you.” You failed to hide the whimper that escaped your throat. “I’m sorry, I know I’m teasing you too much. I’ll stop if-”

“N-No, don’t stop…” you responded almost inaudibly.

A sultry laugh emanated from the man above you. “Oh, is that so?” You nodded. “Use your words, love.”

You shivered. “Please… remind me of my place…sir…”

He tilted your head up towards him, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on your lips. “Whatever you wish, my angel. You let me know if I go too far, okay?”

“Yes, I will.”

“Good girl,” he murmured. “Now, I believe you wanted to show me something?”

You took a deep breath before reaching out for the zipper and button of his pants. You made slow work of them, trying to be as delicate as possible. You grabbed both the hems of his pants and boxers, Lucifer raising himself up so you could more easily shimmy the remainder of his clothing off. His hardened cock sprang free, your face boiling from seeing the very obvious precum that had already begun leaking from the tip. After tossing away his pants, gripped Lucifer’ s hips and brought him as close to the edge of the bed as possible, your lips now mere inches away from his impressive length. You swallowed harshly. Breathing became an increasingly difficult task. With tentative hands, you reached out and lightly gripped the base of Lucifer's cock, his low moan sent pleasure straight between your thighs. There was no going back now.

"Go ahead, my dear," Lucifer encouraged, "show me how sinful those hands of yours are."

Without any further prodding, your hand move languidly up and down his cock, the precum providing enough lubrication for smooth strokes. Lucifer groaned above you, his sounds were everything you'd imagined and more. Your strokes became faster, needing to hear more of Lucifer coming undone from your touch alone. But even touching him wasn't enough to satisfy your desires. Your hot breath so close to his most sensitive area had Lucifer shuttering. And even more so when you decided to run your tongue from the base of his cock to the very tip. You'd finally gotten your first taste of him, and that sent you into a complete frenzy. Your tongue worked circles around the head of his length and you could hear Lucifer's guttural moans turn into whimpers of pure ecstasy.

"F-Fuck," Lucifer managed to choke out as he watched you bob your head and down, taking as much of him as you could manage. "You-mnmm...s-sure seem to know what you're doing. S-Shhiiittt...I-I'm starting to think you-GA-AAHH...you really do b-belong down here." Lucifer's composure was fading fast even though he continued his taunting. His words lit a fire within in, increasing your movements to an unrelenting pace. "O-OH FFFFUU-UUCCCKK," he screeched, his hand now tightening around your hair for an assemblance of stability. His overstimulated cock twitched in your mouth; you knew he was close. "Y-You're gonna make me c-cum if you keep doing thaa-ahhhht...but t-that's what you want, isn't it? You wanna taste m-my cum, sweet girl?"

"M-Mhmm," you hummed blissfully, your mouth and hand working in tandem to bring him over the edge.

"Then d-don't stop," he commanded.

You did exactly as he said, not slowing down for even a second. The thought of kneeling before the outcasted being that you were meant to despise with every inch of your soul drove you mad. Now here you were, unraveling him with your hands and mouth alone. Lucifer was using all of his willpower to not thrust his hips into you and completely fuck your mouth. That would have to wait for another time. But once your other hand started to gently massage his balls, it was over. "Fuck fuck fuck FUCKFUCKFUCK-CUMMING," he cried out before finally emptying himself inside your mouth. You couldn't move away even if you wanted to the way he way holding your head in place. But you were perfectly content swallowing every drop of his hot cum. When the twitching stopped, he had released his grip on you, allowing you to pull away from him and gulp down the last of his seed. You looked up at him with a nervous smile, your hands now resting on his knees.

"H-How'd I do?" you laughed sheepishly. But your laugh faded once you saw the change in Lucifer's appearance. His eyes were no longer his normal soft yellow, but a deep crimson red.

"Oh, my sweet little angel," his voice dripping with desire, "you were nothing short of absolute perfection. How absolutely filthy you are for swallowing all of my cum. I love it!" He offered his hand to you, helping you off of the ground. He stood with you, pulling at the bottom of your dress. "But I'm far from being done with you." With a soft "yes", your dress was dragged over your head and tossed to the side in one swift motion, leaving you nothing but your matching black bra and panties. Lucifer stood there drinking in your form, his outstretched tongue swishing from side to side. "Gorgeous," he hummed against your skin before bringing his hot mouth to your neck. You squeaked at the sensation, but your surprise rapidly shifted to wanton moans. His sharp teeth and forked tongue raked across your pulse, sending waves of pleasure throughout your entire body. "I'll make sure everyone knows you're mine now..." he pulled away and looked up at you pleadingly, "that is, if you'll have me."

You smiled, tears now pricking the corner or your eyes. "I'm already yours."

Lucifer's breath had caught in his throat as he captured your lips, your mouth being invaded by his eager tongue. He hoisted you up by your hips, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips as you hooked your arms around his neck to pull him even closer than before. He laid you down on the bed sweetly, now crawling his way up towards you. Lucifer's body now completely enveloped yours. The angel's disheveled hair and the sweat dripping from his forehead was truly a breathtaking sight. His captivating red eyes felt as though they were piercing your very soul, searching for every hidden desire you had locked away. Lucifer licked his lips seductively. "If my memory serves, I recall a certain someone telling me that they found my unholier side...oh, what was the word..." Lucifer feigned forgetfulness as his horns appeared from his skull, "Ahh, yes, I remember now. "Hot." Isn't that right, darling?"

Your face flushed furiously. You mentally cursed your drunken self as you looked up at Lucifer's smug expression. His demonic features made you quiver with anticipation. You've all but sold your soul to the devil himself and you were more than willing to give him everything he wanted. His red claws made quick work of your bra, unclasping it with ease and throwing it across the room. The urge to cover yourself was overwhelming, but it was like Lucifer could read your every thought. He held both of your wrists and placed them above your head, holding them there with just one hand while the other made its way towards your chest.

“Be a good girl and keep your hands there for me,” he ordered.

You nodded obediently. You clung onto the pillows above you as Lucifer let go of your wrists, placing both of his hands on your supple breasts, mewling from the stimulation. Lucifer pinched your nipples, rubbing them gently between his clawed fingers. The sharp ends of his claws poked at your skin while he continued his ministrations. Your meek whimpers turned into moans.

“L-Lucifer, please…” you begged. “I-I need-GAH…”

“I adore the way you say my name, love,” he praised. “Say it again.”

“Luciferrr…” you whined.

He rewarded you with a kiss. “What a pretty voice you have, all desperate and needy for me. So willing to submit…”

He let his mouth fall on one of your nipples, lapping and sucking the sensitive bud while kneading at your other breast. Your nails dug into the pillows, fighting every urge to reach out and touch him. But you couldn’t stand it, obedience truly had its disadvantages.

“Please Lucifer, l-let me touch you,” the request fell from your lips in a desperate plea. “Let me hold you…”

“Hmmm,” his lips reverberated against you. “Patience, love, patience.” Lucifer’s demonic tail appeared suddenly behind him, swaying back and forth. You watched as it lowered itself close to the hem of your panties. Slowly, it inched its way underneath and found itself between your slick folds. You couldn’t hold back a gasp once you realized what Lucifer had planned. “Allow me to try something first.” After giving him the "okay", you felt him flick his tail against your clit, causing you to arch your back, moaning unashamedly in the process. It was circling your swollen nub slowly at first, but quickly built up to a relentless pace. Your body shook uncontrollably as his tail abused your clit. “The way your body reacts to me is such a wonderful sight to behold, sweetheart. Look at you, so easily corrupted.”

It wasn’t long before you cried out in absolute pleasure. You could feel that coil in your stomach ready to snap. You'd barely been touched and you were helpless to fight against your impending release. “F-Fuu-aaahhhh Lu-Lucifer! I-I can’t-HHAAAA-gonna c-cum…g-gonna-FFFUCK!” Lucifer ignored your cries, only focusing on your breasts as you writhed under his touch. You screamed as your sudden orgasm hit you like a freight train, your walls clenching around nothing.

With a low chuckle, Lucifer removed his tail from your drenched slit, admiring your complete fucked out face. "You did so well," he praised, "I promise I'll get you some new panties soon, it wasn't very nice of me to let you ruin yours." You turned your face away from his to hide your embarrassment, only for Lucifer to give you a small peck on your very reddened cheek. "You can move your arms now, darling." At his word, you released the death grip you had on the pillows behind you and pulled Lucifer in for another deep kiss. You felt his lips curl into a smile against yours. "Would you like to keep going?"

"Yes."

"Hehe, so eager," he said poking your nose, "it's adorable. I think it's only fair that I get to have my fill of you now, don't you think?"

Your pupils dilated. "O-Oh, you mean..."

"Is something wrong?" he asked nervously.

"No! No, nothing's wrong," you reassured him, "it's just that...no one's ever offered to uhh, do that for me."

A mix of annoyance and confusion flashed across his face. "Wait, what?!" He sat up straight, resting his full weight on your stomach. "So, let me see if I'm understanding this correctly. You've gone down on men before but not one of them ever offered to return the favor?" You shook your head nervously. A fearsome growl erupted from Lucifer's throat and his eyes had turned a glowing red for just a moment; you couldn't help but shiver. "I'm sorry, but that's inexcusable! Hell isn't enough of a punishment for men like that. To only take and never give back." Lucifer made his way off of you and helped you sit upright against the pillows. "Please allow me to make up for their sins."

"O-Okay," you responded weakly, "only if you want to. I never want you to feel like you have to do anything for me."

He leaned into you for a tender kiss. "Darling, I want nothing more than to ravish you in every way possible; you deserve that and much, much more." You couldn't help but blush at his flattering words. "Lift your legs for me?" You did as he asked, allowing him to tug at the hem of your panties. You held your breath as you watched him drag them down the length of your legs and toss them away carelessly. You closed your legs instinctively, though you realized it was a little bit too late to try and hide yourself from him at this point. Lucifer only smiled and positioned himself in front of you, resting his hands on your knees. "It's alright, take your time," he soothed.

You nodded and let out the breath you had been holding. Lethargically, you began to part your legs for him, letting him finally drink in the sight of your soaked entrance. You noticed him gulp in response and couldn't hide the small smirk on your face. "Like what you see?"

Lucifer licked his lips mindlessly, staring at you like you were a meal to be devoured. "You have no idea," he answered, never taking his eyes away from of your glistening pussy. He laid himself down on his stomach, trailing soft kisses on either side of your inner thighs, leaving nothing but tender bite marks and hickies in his wake. With each passing second you became more and more restless, wanting nothing more than this torment to end. But Lucifer was savoring every bit of you and your heart couldn't help but feel full. At last, you felt his hot breath against your pussy, your body tensed at the sensation.

"Lucifer..." you whispered.

He placed one final kiss to your thigh. "For as long as I live, I'll never tire of hearing you say my name," he spoke sweetly, "Relax for me as much as you can now, love. And if you need to, you can grab my horns. They're there to help you."

"W-Why would I need to gra-AAAHHH" you tried to ask but were cut short after feeling Lucifer take a long, languid lick up your folds. It was something you'd never felt before, but you knew you needed more of it, and you needed it now. Luckily for you, the fallen angel between your thighs was more than happy to provide. His lips were pressed firmly against your aching cunt while his tongue quickly found your clit. The noises you were making were unholy but you couldn't imagine a more heavenly feeling. He moaned against you desperately, as if your essence was his life source. Without warning, Lucifer tossed your legs over his shoulders to give him better access to his prize. In your haze, you remembered his suggestion and took ahold of his demonic horns, doing your best to keep yourself grounded.

"God damn it," Lucifer snarled, "To think no one has done this for you, f-fuck, what complete and utter fools they were. I've never tasted something so divine." You felt his claws dig into your skin as he forced his tongue deeper into you, drawing out the dirtiest sounds you didn't know you could make.

"F-Feels so g-good," you babbled, your hands tightening around his horns. "P-Please don't stop, I-I..."

One of Lucifer's arms unhooked itself from your leg, his fingers now prodding at your slick. His tongue never stopped circling your clit as you felt a single finger slip inside you with ease. You whimpered from the sudden intrusion. "C'mon baby, need you to cum f'me." Another finger quickly entered you, two of them now thrusting in and out of you. "Let me taste you, all of you." Lucifer's tail swished behind him as he focused on coaxing another orgasm out of you. His tongue and fingers worked together to bring you closer and closer to the edge once more. His fingers curled inside you, your back arching as he hit your most sensitive spot with each motion. "I can feel you clenching...you're so close..."

And he was right. That same coil in your lower stomach was as tight as it could be, the knot threatening to unravel at any moment. "Lucif-fer, I-I'm gonna...fuckfuckfuck-GAAAHHH!" With little warning, your second orgasm hit hard, your walls now pulsating around Lucifer's fingers which refused to stop moving. You felt yourself empty onto his face, your cries filling the room, your hands stinging from how tightly you held onto his horns. As Lucifer helped work you down from your high, you couldn't help but notice the loud slurping sound that came from beneath you. He was lapping your cunt like a man starved. After another moment or two, Lucifer gazed up at you adoringly, his mouth completely drenched in your juices. Your hands flew to your face out of pure embarrassment. How could someone look so happy after basically being assaulted by your orgasm. "Y-You can't just look at me like that after you just did what you did!" you berated him.

"Look at you like what?" he teased, crawling on all fours and closing the gap between you. He gently pulled your hands away from your burning face and gave you the toothiest grin you'd ever seen from him. "Look at you like I'm the luckiest man in existence, you mean?" Lucifer kissed you once more, and you could taste the faintest hint of yourself on his lips. "And by the way, I'm absolutely addicted to your taste now, my angel. I hope you don't mind if I indulge myself every single day from now on. With your permission, of course."

You could only smile at him, caressing his face in your hands and locking your lips together once more. "Who would've thought the devil himself would be this perfect? I'm starting to believe that you may have fully corrupted me, my king."

The way his title rolled off your tongue made Lucifer shudder. "Not quite yet," he corrected. He laid you down gently as he trailed kisses down your neck and collarbone, stopping periodically to nip and suck as many parts of your exposed skin as he could. He then laid his full weight on top of you, and you could feel his hardened cock resting on your stomach. Your mouth ran dry, but you never needed something as much as you needed this. Needed him. To fully claim you and make you his. "Is this what you want?" Lucifer asked. "Because if you're not ready, we can stop right now. I won't be upset if that's what you decide."

You shook your head assuredly. "I'm ready, Lucifer. Even though I may not ever make it into Heaven after this, I'm not sure I want to anymore if it meant I'd have to leave you behind." You could tell by Lucifer's sudden change in expression that the thought of losing you if you were to be redeemed had never crossed his mind. His face fell at the realization, but you reassured him with a quick peck to his forehead. "Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere. And we can worry about the details later. But right now..." you ground your hips up into him, forcing a low moan out of your lover, "...I need you...please…"

"Oh, you're just a little devil, aren't you?” Lucifer chuckled darkly. He then pushed himself off you, settling himself between your legs. The head of his cock teased your entrance, and you gulped in anticipation. "Are you ready?”

"Y-Yes," you murmured. Your body instinctively bucked up in attempt to create more friction that you so desperately craved. Lucifer pressed your hips down firmly into the mattress to keep you from squirming. You whimpered in protest.

“Ah ah ah, all in good time,” Lucifer cooed. “It’s your first time, love, I don’t want to see you in any pain. Stay perfectly still for me, alright?” After what felt like an eternity, Lucifer at last pushed the tip of his cock into you. Your knuckles turned a solid white from the way you gripped the bed sheets beneath you. The pressure you felt was unlike anything else. “A-Are you still okay?” Lucifer asked.

“M-More, please Lucifer, I-I need…” you choked out. He was only an inch deep inside of you and the only thing on your mind was the carnal desire of having him fully sheathed inside of you.

“My pretty girl,” he whispered above you. Inch by inch, his hips pushed forward, stretching you out beyond what you thought was possible. Once he was finally fully inside of you, you and him moaned in unison. The complete fullness you were experiencing was something you needed to be engrained into your memory forever. He didn’t move for a minute or so, letting your body get used to his above average length. He didn’t want to break you. At least, not tonight. "S-So tight, f-fuck..." Lucifer's entire body quivered as his enormous angelic wings magically sprung from his back. You stared up at him in awe, taking in the heavenly sight above you. Your eyes followed from the base of his wings to the very tip. Lucifer noticed your gawking and laughed lightly. "My eyes are over here, darling."

You blushed incredibly hard. "S-Sorry, I didn't mean to stare. It's just...they're beautiful. Can I...? You didn't need to finish your question as Lucifer dropped his wings down, allowing you to reach up and feel them for the first time. You ran your hand down each set, your fingers combing through his scarlet feather. They twitched under your gentle touch. "Are they sensitive?"

"V-Very much," Lucifer breathed. "We can experiment another time, though."

"A-Another time?"

Lucifer looked down you puzzled. "I hope you didn't think this would only be a one time thing. That's not who I am, despite anything you may have heard. When I said I wanted everyone to know you were mine, I didn't mean just for tonight."

Your eyes began to water from his declaration. "You mean..."

Lucifer leaned down and kissed the tears that had began to fall down your cheek. "Yes, I do. I'm yours, if that's what you desire."

You smiled weakly, holding back a sob. "Yes, it is." You brought your hands up, cupping his face and kissing his trembling lips tenderly. Your kiss caused Lucifer to twitch inside of you, quickly reminding you of the pressure between your legs. "Y-You can move now, Lucifer...please..."

With a deep exhale, Lucifer pulled out of you slowly, only to snap his hips back with no hesitation. He repeated this motion, slowly at first, coaxing as many sound out of you as he could. Your cries of pleasure were intoxicating, pulling him deeper and deeper into a state of pure bliss. His hips rutted into you at a steady pace as he continued to hit your G-spot effortlessly with each thrust.

"You're d-doing so well, love," he growled animalistically, "t-taking me so well. You f-feel so good. Too good...Take it all f'me, want you to feel all of m-me. Look how g-good you are, taking the Devil's cock like this."

"L-Lucifer," you mewled. You couldn't form a coherent thought anymore, all you could manage to say was his name. "Lucifer, f-fuuu-uuck...Luciferrr."

"That's it, dear," he praised, the pace of his thrusts quickening. "My name on y-your lips is more beautiful than any melody I ever heard in Heaven." His grip on your hips tightened, pulling you closer to him as he mercilessly pounded into you over and over. "G-God, you're so fucking wet. Slipping in and out of you s-so easily. You g-gonna cum for me again?"

"Y-Yes!" you cried out helplessly. "I'm close, so c-close, I can't..." Your hands flew around his neck as your body shook violently beneath the fallen angel. Your stomach felt like it was in knots, you didn't know how much longer you could hold out. "G-Gonna cu-aaaAAHH,"

"Hold on j-just a little longer, baby," Lucifer said, wrapping his tail around your abdomen. "I'm close too...w-where do you want me to-"

"INSIDE! P-PLEASE!" you screamed, locking your legs behind his back. "I c-can't hold it, Lucifer, I can't, I can't, I CAN'T!"

"Naughty girl..." he taunted lovingly. "Cum for me now, angel. Need t-to feel you clench around me. Cum for me."

The coil inside of you snapped for a third time, your walls pulsating around Lucifer's cock. Your spasms had left Lucifer groaning, his head now resting on your collarbone. His own orgasm washed over him not long after you. You milked his cock, his hot angelic seed filling you up your cunt completely. Wave after wave of pleasure filled you both, reducing you to nothing but exhausted and sweaty messes. He stayed inside of you for a moment longer, both of you trying to recover from your release. Lucifer finally found enough strength to remove himself from you, and at long last reverting back to his normal state. He crashed down on top of you, looking at your through his half-lidded eyes and pulling you into a crushing hug.

"Lucifer...can't...breathe..." you forced out, tapping his shoulder rapidly. His grip on you loosened immediately.

"I'm sorry!" he apologized. "I forget my own strength sometimes. H-How are you feeling?"

Your faced flushed as you tucked your hair behind your ear. "G-Good. More than good. That was...just incredible!" you couldn't help but laugh to yourself.

"What's so funny, dear?" Lucifer asked with an amused look.

You smiled at him. "Oh, you know just...I was thinking about how I would go about explaining myself to my friends and family back on Earth. How the well behaved, never strayed from the light church girl just had the best sex of her life with the one and only fallen angel Lucifer. Wonder how well that would go over! They probably think I made it into Heaven!"

Lucifer laughed along with you, pulling you flush to his chest. "I'll admit, it's pretty ironic. But to be fair, I never would have thought you'd give me a chance."

You looked up at him confused. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you know, I am 'the bad guy' to believers. The winners always write history, and according to Heaven, I was the loser. And when I found out you were one of them when you were alive, I didn't think you'd even glance in my direction. I thought you were the most stunning creature I'd ever laid my eyes on when you first arrived here at the hotel. But I never truly pursued you because...the bad guy never gets the girl, right?"

You couldn't help but frown as he spoke. His voice was sad, full of hurt. It was clear that Lucifer has suffered though a lot of pain and anguish. You were told the story of Eden growing up, of how Lucifer had deceived Eve and in doing so, caused the downfall of humanity. But that was clearly only one side of the story. You gave a quick peck to his cheek. "You're not a bad guy, Lucifer. I know that now. I let my fear and my upbringing cloud my judgement before. Not anymore. I want to hear your side of the story, every detail. Will you stay with me and tell me?"

Lucifer's eyes softened, his lips forming into a tiny smile. "I'd love nothing more." He brought his hand to your cheek, leaning in to capture your lips once more.

~~~

10,000 GOD DAMN WORDS, WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!?! ANYWAY, I HOPED YOU LIKED IT!

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#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #this was a lot of fun to write i must say!#WHY THE FUCK DID THIS TURN OUT SO LONG

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elixirfromthestars · 3 months ago

Text

Boulevard Confessions

Pairing: 1940s!Bucky Barnes x Nurse!Reader

Summary: Being a third wheel to Peggy and Steve wasn't your ideal Thursday night fun. However, when they tell you Bucky is tagging along you eagerly decide to join them. That is until a third party makes its presence known.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warning(s): drinking / fluff / jealousy / divergent from canon timeline / suggestive language / tipsy symptoms / mentions of war + the hardships that came with it

a/n: Here’s a little piece that’s been sitting unfinished in my drafts for ages. For context, this timeline is one where Steve and Bucky both made it back from the war safe and sound and are enjoying their lives now that the war is over. Thank you for reading! ₊˚⊹♡ As a little psa my writing challenge is still ongoing!! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!! ♡

for ambiance 🎶

“ I am about to spew my dinner all over this table,” you grimace, downing the rest of your martini. The bitterness of the spirits was lost on you as your consumption grew in time with your sour mood.

Peggy eyed you from across the table, holding back her amusement, “ If you keep stuffing your face with martinis you will.” You reach out to grab another unclaimed drink, but before you could, Peggy slid the rest of them away from you. You crossed your arms, blowing out a resigned sigh. Even in your inhibited state, you knew better than to argue with an SSR agent.

Peggy shook her head at you, “ As your best friend I have an obligation to put a stop to this. Don’t you have a shift tomorrow at the clinic?” Your eyes went wide at the reminder.

You slump in the booth, dreading the bad hangover awaiting you in the morning. “ I do, but thankfully it's in the afternoon. I won’t feel it by then. . .” You trailed off, failing to convince Peggy, or yourself, you wouldn’t be miserable at work tomorrow. Peggy turned to look at the dance floor before returning her attention to you, “ You know, maybe you should dance the dizzy away. It might help you sober up.” Your lips purse at her suggestion, noticing a certain blonde-haired blue-eyed super soldier returning from the bathroom.

“ It's easy for you to say. You have a dance partner,” you motioned over to Steve.

“ You would too if you would only go up and ask him,” she pointed out.

You glanced at the dancing couples, “ No way. With the way that leech is clinging on to him—I’d never get one word in.”

She shrugged, “ You’ll never know until you try.” These were her parting words before Steve arrived at the table and escorted her onto the dance floor. You watched them, your head bopping along tiredly to the swing music.

Maybe you should have stayed home.

You almost didn’t come to the outing—being the third wheel to Peggy and Steve wasn’t exactly your ideal Thursday night fun. However, Peggy had mentioned Bucky would come along, and seeing as you hadn’t seen him in a few weeks due to conflicting schedules, you thought this would be the perfect opportunity to catch up.

That was until the leech—a woman named Darla—decided to hog Bucky all night. Darla had been trying to get with Bucky for over a month now. You found this out tonight when Steve made a comment about it. Bucky hadn’t paid it much importance, so you thought it must have not been anything serious. However, right about the time you and Bucky were starting to catch up, Darla came over and dragged him away.

Since then you’ve been inhaling martinis like your lungs preferred them over air.

You couldn’t help the way your eyes drifted over to Bucky’s figure. Handsome as ever in his navy suit—your favorite color on him—and hair neatly combed. Watching as Darla threw herself at him with the courage that you lacked. Pulling him every which way on the dance floor, holding his hands to her hips in a tight grip.

Your stomach contents were threatening to come up again.

When did things get so complicated? You scratched at your brain for an answer. Spending time with Bucky had been so easy back at the military base where you met. You were stationed there in the medical unit caring for wounded and ill soldiers. During that time, you became great friends with Peggy and everyone on the Howling Commandos team. Bucky would frequently visit the medical unit even when he wasn’t sick or wounded. Sometimes you swore he would fake injuries or aches just to come and see you. Anytime he came in with something new he would refuse to see any other nurse but you.

It made you feel special. While other women were smitten with his charms and stumbled over seizing his attention—you had it without effort. You had so much more than just his attention without even trying. On hopeless nights he shared his fears, on days where the war seemed endless you eased his worries, and when he felt like the world was crashing down on him his heart spilled all vulnerabilities to you.

You found refuge from the horrors of war in each other—a balm to each other’s wounds that went beyond the physical. In no time, something deeper for him bloomed within your heart.

Ever since the war was over, however, things have been different. It’s been a couple of years and Steve and Bucky work alongside Peggy for the Strategic Scientific Reserve. Going on missions has become their norm, so seeing your friends is a rarity nowadays.

You on the other hand were given a job at a children’s clinic in Brooklyn. You were grateful for this small piece of normality coming back to you. Treating smaller wounds on smaller bodies instead of lethal wounds during a relentless battle. Your senses are permanently burned with sights, sounds, and smells horrific enough to induce nightmares—and they do—managing to steal precious hours of sleep from you almost every night.

It was something you and Bucky especially bonded over.

“ May I have the honor of a dance, gorgeous?” A voice interrupted your thoughts. You looked up to meet a pair of unrecognizable hazel eyes. A handsome stranger stood in front of you, his hand outstretched for you to take. If you had but only one percentage less of alcohol in your system you would have declined his offer. This of course wasn’t the case, and not wanting to reminisce on more melancholy thoughts, you decided to listen to Peggy’s advice and dance the dizzy away.

Even if it wasn’t with the man you wanted to dance with.

“ You may,” you smiled at him, taking hold of his hand. Swiftly you were swept into the sea of couples on the dance floor. The handsome stranger—who you soon learn was named Thomas—was an impeccable dancer. With one hand holding yours, and the other holding you gently at your lower back, he spun you around the dance floor in rhythmic kicks and slides. Thomas’ energy was infectious and you couldn’t help but match his enthusiasm.

After two dances your footwork and Thomas’ were practically synchronized. Thomas twirled you, causing a giggle to escape your lips. It seemed the alcohol was stubborn about staying in your system as the twirl caused the dizziness to come back—for a split second—making you trip over your own foot. Thomas caught you and steadied you, both of you laughing at your clumsiness. The carefreeness of it all lulled the ache in your heart.

Behind Thomas, you caught a glimpse of Peggy who was dancing as joyfully with Steve. Her eyes met yours and she sent you an encouraging smile. Soon after, her eyes drifted to something behind you, turning her smile into a smirk. You went back to dancing with Thomas, but manoeuvered around to get a look at what caused Peggy to smirk. Your heart did a little jump when you discovered she had been looking at Bucky and Darla, dancing a few feet from where you were.

Correction. She had been staring at a Bucky you barely recognized. His jaw clenched and body rigid as he glared daggers at the back of Thomas’ head. Darla beside him looked snubbed, tugging on Bucky’s arm to get his attention. His tense demeanor didn’t move an inch no matter how much she protested. The pair were no longer dancing, merely standing in the sea of all the couples. This piqued your curiosity.

Why had he stopped dancing? And to glare at Thomas of all things?

You didn’t have much time to think about it as Darla, clearly fed up by Bucky’s lack of attention, grabbed him by his arm and pulled him away from the dance floor. You swayed to and fro with Thomas, controlling the direction you were swinging in to try and not lose Bucky from your line of sight.

Where was Darla taking him?

Your heart stopped when you realized where they were going. Darla was making a beeline for the back of the bar where the honey hallway was. The spot where all the couples went to have a little more privacy and fool around without having to leave the bar. If he was going there with Darla, then maybe things were more serious between them than you previously believed.

Your heart dropped to your stomach when reality sank in.

You excused yourself from Thomas, scurrying away in need of some fresh air. He offered to follow along, but you declined wanting to be alone. You threw the entrance door open into the Brooklyn night as a sickly feeling spread throughout your body.

You stepped into the street, the swing music fading into the background as the door closed behind you. You took in a deep breath, once again regretting the amount of alcohol you had consumed.

If you weren’t drunk seeing Bucky with someone else wouldn’t have hurt so much. It wouldn’t have knocked the air out of your lungs like it's doing now.

You know that’s a lie. That’s a damn lie you’re telling yourself to get you through the night. To give you the strength to focus on your surroundings and trudge home.

You’d eventually do that. First, however, your body seemed to want to cling to a street lamp to bring the world back to you. The cold metal underneath your palms grounding you for a moment. The breeze blowing past you threading through your hair as if to comfort you.

“ Doll, everything alright?” Your heart stuttered when you heard his voice, the thud of the bar door closing following it. You shut your eyes and bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from saying or doing anything the liquid courage in your system was trying to wrestle out of you.

You knew you needed to make a quick getaway.

“ I’m fine. Just heading home,” you were straight to the point before turning to walk away. Not looking at him as you put one foot in front of the other—and then stumbled.

Bucky caught you, his arms offering a strong support,“ Woah, Y/n, how much did you drink?” There was a slight annoyance in his tone. As if the mere thought of you having fun was preposterous.

Or at least that’s how your tipsy state interpreted it.

“ Doesn’t matter. I can have a drink or two if I want to. I get to have fun too,” you retort, trying to push his arms away from your body. Your arms are no match for his, as he doesn’t budge an inch—on the contrary, his hold gets more firm. The world started to spin more, but at this point, whether it was because of the martinis or his proximity—you wouldn’t know.

Bucky huffed and rolled his eyes,“ This isn’t having fun. This is going overboard,” he counters. His constant need to hold you steady and scold you for drinking irked the part of you that was already upset with him—fueling it more. Especially when you had the image of him heading to the honey hallway with Darla ingrained in your brain. And his arms, the ones around you now, swinging her around on the dancefloor.

There was something dark bubbling an envious brew within you.

“ Why do you give a damn?” you snap out harshly. He stills at your tone and it's enough to shake his hold off of you. You force yourself to look at him. Intending to shoot him an annoyed glare. Something to convey what your heart felt when your words failed to—but when your eyes met his you froze.

They were dark—virtually stormy—and yet, there was a hint of pain in them. Almost as if you had kicked him, but he was toughing it out.

“ What was that about?” He finally spoke after what seemed like too long.

“ What was what about?” You feigned innocence.

His eyes got darker, a disapproving half smile on his face,“ Don’t play coy. I come out here to check on you. You’re stumbling like a drunk fool. I try to help and you snap at me?”

“ I didn’t ask you to,” you’re quick with your dismissal.

“ You…unbelievable…” Bucky lets out a scoff, not knowing how to respond. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into you. In his mind, you’re simply too drunk to regulate yourself. He doesn’t know the vile jealousy that bubbles in the pit of your stomach and gnaws at your heart. He doesn’t know the intense battle your emotions are having with your brain—right in front of him—to stay silent before you truly say something you cannot take back.

“ Go back inside. I’m heading home,” you say simply, not wanting to dwell on this conversation any longer. You feared what might come of it if you didn’t.

“ No. I'm walking you home,” he shakes his head firmly, his tone matching in conviction.

“ No, you're not,” you reply, turning to make your way down the boulevard. Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose, “ Like hell I'm not, doll. I'm not letting you walk home alone.”

“I'm not letting you walk me home. I don't want you to,” you say adamantly as your feet start moving. Bucky is right beside you as they do, not letting you get away,“ I don't care what you want or don't want. I'm walking you home and that's final.” His voice leaves no room for argument.

The martinis in your system don’t particularly give a damn, but it is enough to quiet you for the time being. Your speed increases slightly, but Bucky can match it easily. For a moment you consider running—as ridiculous as an idea that may be.

The sharp patter of your footsteps against the pavement synchronizes with the thudding of his as they mingle down the boulevard. The city sounds around you are an otherwise low hum of the occasional car and distant conversation. The city still whispering its signs of life at this time of night.

The walk to your place isn’t too far. And you know if you don’t shake him off soon there would be an unpleasant conversation awaiting you when you arrive.

“ Don’t you have someone waiting on you at the bar?” You remind him with a little sting to your heart. Secretly hoping this wasn’t the reason he’d walk away from you.

Bucky frowns, thinking for a moment before speaking,“ What? You mean Darla?” The sound of her name on his lips bristles you.

“ Yeah, her,” the word her spills from your lips as if it was venomous. Bucky catches that and is taken aback for a second. His footsteps coming to a stop. You push yourself to keep walking. Taking this as a sign to ignore the tiny part of your brain that begs you to stop moving.

Not a minute later Bucky strides to your side,“ Doll…are you jealous?” He asks with the tiniest bit of doubt, his small smile overshadowing it.

“ Me? Ha! No,” your denial is quick—too quick. His small smile turns into a wide grin. You’ve just confirmed his conjecture,“ Yes, you are.”

“ No. Go ahead and marry her for all I care. I won’t be at the wedding anyway,” you don’t mean what you say and yet you said it anyway. Playing up the indifference act you’ve dawned.

“ You won’t be at my wedding?” He’s not upset when he responds, he's amused. He has to hold back his laughter at your train of thought. This gets under your skin and you grumble a snippy no before picking up your pace. You’re now imagining Darla in a wedding dress next to Bucky in his suit and it does devastating things to you.

“ That’s impossible.”

“ How so? I just won’t go.”

His tone takes a more serious turn when he replies, “ It’ll be hard to have a wedding without the bride there.” You come to a halt, your head whipping so fast to look at him you almost gave yourself whiplash.

“ What?” You manage to find your voice. His gaze softens,“ You heard me, doll.” He’s being completely sincere—you know this deep down. However, there’s still a part of you that doesn’t believe this is happening. That believes this to be a dream.

“ You don’t mean that.”

“ I do. If you were to ask me where I see forever—I see it with you.”

His confession takes your breath away. The mere admission of him thinking of you as his eternity—as the one he wants beside him for life—your heart could burst at how delightfully overwhelmed it feels.

“ But you—” you start and his pointer finger gently presses against your lips to shush you. He already knows what you’re about to bring up and he needs to nip it before your drunken mind jumps to wilder conclusions.

“ She’s just a friend. She’s a secretary at the SSR—nothing more. I was dancing with her to be nice. Honestly, I was trying to find a polite way to leave her and get back to you until I saw you dancing with that guy,” he removes his finger from your lips once he’s done explaining. At the mention of Thomas, his jaw clenches briefly and annoyance flashes in his eyes.

It dawns on you why he was glaring at Thomas earlier. The realization of Bucky having felt as jealous as you did sends your heart ablaze. Your heart had gone through so much tonight, you were surprised it hadn’t gone into cardiac arrest already.

“ Who’s the jealous one now?” you tease, an almost giddy smile on your face.

Bucky rolls his eyes playfully,“ Yeah, doll. Unlike you, I’ll admit it. I was jealous. I don’t like seeing you with another man. Laughing and dancing—should've been me, not him,” he says stepping closer to you. His eyes reflected pure adoration.

“ Why didn’t you ask me?” your question comes out quieter than you’d like. Enamored with the way he’s looking at you. You can barely focus on anything else.

“ Because when it comes to you I get all nervous and worked up. It's like I’m a punk again—a dumb kid with a crush. I don’t want to mess it up with you, Y/n. I would never want to do anything to lose you. Guess I got too caught up in doing things right I didn’t do anything at all,” Bucky opens up to you, his answer shedding away any last bit of hesitance in your body.

“ Bucky…I wish it would’ve been you instead too,” you say softly, stepping closer until you’re only a few inches away from him. His features match yours in fondness as he gently reaches out to grab hold of your waist, pulling you even closer, and closing the final bit of distance between you.

Your hands rest delicately at his chest. You can feel the way his heart races under your fingertips, drawing out a small gasp from you. Knowing you had this effect on him delighted you. It made you wonder how long you had been making him feel this way—and how long you had missed the signs.

“ Told you. I’m a dumb kid with a crush,” he reiterates with a soft chuckle. You giggle at his words, beaming dreamily at the way that all of this is real. That Bucky has feelings for you, and you two can only grow closer from here on out.

For a split second his eyes dart to your mouth. Having you so close like this tempts Bucky to no end. Everything he’s ever wanted to do with you crosses his mind and it drives him crazy. He has no idea where to start or if he’ll even let himself start anywhere.

Your body thrums with anticipation as it waits for him to make a move.

Bucky ends up tenderly kissing your forehead, “ Come on, doll. Let’s get you home.” Your lips form a light pout, disappointed his lips didn’t touch yours. He sees your reaction and he laughs, giving your hips a light squeeze, “ Doll, our first kiss will happen after you get that alcohol out of your system,” he says, one hand reaching up to lightly swipe at your nose—finding you endearing.

“ We’ve already had our first kiss.”

“ Doll we—oh, we have…”

The memory of you two drunkenly kissing in the medical tent on one particularly lonely night during the war flashes through your minds. The already tension between you rising to a palpable form.

There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes,“ Still. If I’m being honest, I’m not stopping at just one kiss. So let’s wait until you’re sober, alright?”

“ Not stopping?” Your tone is playful as you pry for further explanation.

“ Oh no, doll. I'll be doing so much more than kissing you,” he smirks, his words laced with suggestion. His hand goes out to cup your face, caressing your cheek. It warms under his fingertips at his implication. The air around you buzzes with electricity.

He can tell where your mind went and he’s enjoying every second of it,“ Yeah, doll. Like taking you out on a proper date,” he winks at you. A genuine laugh erupts from you at the way he side steps what he really meant. He joins you in the laughter, his eyes telling you the truth of what he really desires.

You. Every bit of you.

You interlace your fingers with his, knowing deep down he has a point. When you kiss Bucky you want to be all there. You want all your senses to be fully awake to drink in every bit of him.

Especially if it goes farther than a kiss.

Bucky moves you over so he’s walking on the outermost part of the sidewalk, holding your interlaced hands to his waist so you’re pressed right up against his side as you walk. You tease and playfully banter all the way to your apartment. The unspoken promises and unmistakable yearning for one another dancing around you two. Assuring you there was so much more to come.

939 notes · View notes

scariusaquarius · 19 days ago

Text

coachable.

RE6! Leon Kennedy x Assistant! Fem! Reader

Summary: Leon Kennedy has been given an assistant that he didn't ask for at the DSO when he begins to fall behind on paperwork and reports. This assistant, however, doesn't seem too keen to be helping him with his mountains of paperwork. Leon reaches the final straw when she mouths off to him for the last time.

A/n: Nothing major, just some classic Leon Kennedy smut hehe. also, i kind of just let the words flow. I really like the agent x assistant dynamic, and I know the trope is overdone, but i will NEVER tire of 'tired old boss fucking bratty assistant'. ANYWAY here is a treat <3

Genre: Romance, Erotica Rated: Explicit Warning: Erotica, Porn w/Plot 18+, Angry/Hate Sex, Dirty Talk, Unprotected Sex, Slight Choking, Degradation, Oral Sex (male/female receiving), Use of Whore, Mean! Leon, Spit Play (leon spits in your mouth like once), CUM EATING, Power Play

Author: ScariusAquarius

Being a federal agent fighting against bioterrorism was a hard job; especially when it was a job he didn't even want in the first place.

When Leon escaped Raccoon City with Claire and Sherry, he envisioned his life becoming quiet. He'd move out of the city and into the country, away from people, and he could heal and focus on forgetting the horrors of that fateful night back in the 90s.

However, life and people had other plans, and Leon had never truly recovered nor healed properly from the traumas he had faced. When the incident at the White House, Tall Oaks, and Shang-Hai happened and he discovered that Sherry had also been forced to become an agent of the Department of Security Operations, Leon was fed up.

Was he going to continue to keep doing his job in hopes that this fight wasn't for nothing? Absolutely, but that didn't mean he was going to enjoy it. So, in tandem with his growing resentment, Leon's performance outside of missions began to dwindle.

Leon began to drink more heavily; his reports sitting unfinished on his desk as supervisors and higher-ups seethed, reprimanded, and threatened, because of the unfinished works. Leon had begun shutting his phone off after he left the DSO at the end of the day.

Even Hunnigan was starting to get onto him about his work and his performance, giving him small lectures that had him rolling his eyes and sighing and agreeing half-heartedly before he would walk off and toss the files on his desk to be forgotten for another day.

Finally, the DSO had enough of his slack and had hired an assistant for him to help him with his paperwork, and Leon was not having any of it. Like a personal vendetta, Leon made sure that he let the DSO know that he didn't appreciate being treated like a child who couldn't do his homework by making the assistant's lives a living hell.

Because of his actions, most of the assistants didn't last long. The longest assistant he had at one time was for about two months before they finally broke and left the job.

And then came you.

Leon just couldn't wrap his head around you; couldn't figure out what it was that made you tick and what made you stay for as long as you had. You were a no-nonsense woman like Hunnigan but with a much larger stick up your ass. You were efficient and aggressive, making sure that Leon knew that you weren't going to take his bullshit and get his reports done.

For the most part, Leon had adamantly refused; allowing the papers to stack for a while before you'd take some, complete them, and then come banging on his office door as more files were given to him.

You weren't so hard on him when he would be put onto missions; understanding that the job itself was more important than the papers, but you weren't about to get in trouble nor allow him any lenience since your job was heavily dependent on him.

Leon sat back in his office chair, his blue eyes staring you down from outside of his office as a pen was shaken back and forth between his fingers.

The paperwork in front of him had been long-forgotten; the words beginning to blur together and give him a headache (though it could have also been the whiskey he'd been sipping from that familiar black flask he'd gotten from the Eastern Slav Republic).

Instead, to pass the time, Leon had taken to watching you. He watched the way you stayed hyperfocus, barely giving any attention to anybody who passed by and tried to talk to you.

You were a hard worker; a meticulous being who took pride in her work, and though your bossiness could get under Leon's skin, Leon respected that you took your job seriously unlike a lot of the other office workers and agents within the DSO.

He just couldn't get past your disrespectful mouth.

"Mr. Kennedy, I'm not going to ask you again. Get the reports done, or I'm going to write a complaint to the director. Again."

You were suddenly standing in front of him, the man jolting slightly when you slapped a folder down in front of him. His blue eyes squinted at you slightly as you placed a hand on your hip, giving him a stern glare.

"Aw, you're gonna tell on me? That hurts my feelings, sweetheart."

His tone was sassy, and mocking, and it made the fire in your eyes blaze. Your nostrils flared, and Leon couldn't help but be amused by the effect his words had on you.

"Listen, I was nice enough to do most of it for you. All you have to do is fill in the blank like the child you are, and then the director won't be on either of our asses anymore. I'm not fucking around, agent."

Before he could retort, you spun around on your heel and marched out, swinging his door shut with a loud slam and causing the blinds to fly and crash against the door. A blade from the blinds broke, and Leon's eyebrow twitched.

Yes, you took your job seriously to the point it annoyed Leon, and he had half a mind to give you a piece of it; his muscles taut and trembling with anger. Who the hell did you think you were talking to him like that?

Gritting his teeth, Leon made sure you were watching him before he grabbed the file and promptly swung it into the trash before kicking his feet up on his desk to take a sip of his whiskey.

He took much pleasure in the way your body shot up from your desk and promptly walked to the break room, hips swinging the whole time.

Once the weekend had passed and Leon had come in, he could feel his body immediately dreading the workday when he noticed you were already at his desk and waiting for him.

Leon threw his bag down onto a chair opposite the desk, collapsing into his chair and sipping the coffee you had placed on his desk with a note that said 'fuck you:)' on it discreetly.

"Nice note, but you're not my type. What the hell do you want at 5am in the morning?"

You rolled your eyes at him before crossing your arms, stating.

"I just spent almost all of last night emailing our higher-ups and explaining to them that the reason their reports are late is because you're not being compliant and doing them, and you know who got yelled at?"

Leon stayed quiet, ignoring your presence as he logged onto his laptop, and he had to swing his hands back when you slammed his laptop shut, your eyes wide and lips curled back into a snarl.

"Leon, I'm not fucking around anymore!"

"Who the hell do you think you are, huh?"

Leon shot up from his chair, getting into your face as anger slipped into his hungover veins, his head beginning to hurt from the skyrocket of blood pressure.

"I'm your goddamn assistant! Your assistant, Leon, not the person doing your whole job for you!"

Leon didn't know what had happened. One minute, he was opening his mouth to yell at you, and the next second, he had your face in between his hands and was kissing you like his whole life depended on it.

You seemed to be shocked, unsure of what to do, and Leon couldn't help but growl when your tongue swiveled against his as he dominated your mouth, gripping your neck tightly within his grasp.

"You talk too goddamn much."

He hissed into your mouth before kissing you again, and your hands were yanking on his hair; the pain sending rivers of tingles down his spine as his cock jumped to life within his slacks.

He was just pent-up, his mind told him, this was just about relief and getting you off of his case. This was purely a dance of power and raw lust fueled by the need to be better, to be in control, to be right.

And however could he resist when you were wearing his cologne?

His nose was buried in your neck, smelling your sweet scent and biting down hard upon your skin, his hands all over your body and ripping and tearing at buttons and seams that were already fragile and frayed. Your nails were digging into his scalp, pulling and tearing and cutting until blood stained the tips of your fingers.

Leon pulled you desperately over his desk and into his lap, your skirt ripping at the sides as your legs wrapped around his waist, and his hands yanked your shirt out from beneath the waistband, his rough hands trailing up the soft skin of your spine.

"Why can't you just leave me the fuck alone, you brat."

"Shut the fuck up, Kennedy."

Your lips were on his, and Leon's hand swung down onto your ass as hard as he could, your body jolting and a shocked cry being swallowed down his throat before he gripped your ass hard through the ruined skirt.

"You don't tell me what to do."

His voice was rough, hoarse, and there was a distant thought of needing a drink to make his voice clear. However, that thought was dissipated when your clothed core rubbed against the bulge desperately pulsing within his pants; his body and mind becoming hooked on you.

He hated you. Leon hated you so much, he couldn't stand it. He couldn't stand being here with you like this, but his legs and arms and hands and mouth; gods, they wouldn't stop moving all over you. Leon couldn't stop devouring your skin and cries and biting and teething and gods, he was turning into a monster himself.

Leon picked you up to smack you down onto his desk, your legs spread, and his coffee went flying, spilling all over his desk and running down the sides into the carpet below.

"Jesus, Kennedy, can't even keep your space clean as usual."

You hissed out, and Leon snarled at you, the grip of his hands bruising and unforgiving as teeth and tongues clashed.

"Since you like to use that mouth so much, why don't you use it for something actually useful?"

There was a part of Leon that felt bad through the haze of his anger and lust as he forced you off the desk and onto your knees, but it quickly disappeared when he got a good look at you.

You were pretty, too pretty, while on your knees.

Eyelashes slightly wet from the tears that had gathered in your eyes from the harsh bite he had imprinted into your shoulder, breaths heavy from how much he was kissing you, and your lips were starting to become swollen.

"Open your fucking mouth."

Your lips formed a thin line as you kept them closed, and Leon sighed before grabbing your face and pressing down on your cheeks, hitting pressure points within the jaw to force your mouth open, and Leon hummed.

"You're so much more sufferable when you're on your knees."

Your eyes were dilated; watching his every move with a sneer though you never tried to pull back. In fact, this whole time, you never once pulled away from him.

Did you want him like that? Have you thought about him enough to the point that you, too, craved him? Did you want to put him in his place like he was doing to you? Leon smirked, his mouth filling with drool and saliva, and Leon leaned down and spat right into your mouth.

"Dirty whore. Anybody could walk in and see you, you know. Someone could walk right through that door and see you on your knees. Just what would they say?"

Your throat was undulating as you swallowed his saliva, and you mumbled back; the words jumbled and almost unintelligible with the way he was still holding your mouth open.

"Fuck you."

"You know what, I just might. Get my cock out."

You made a face at him, and he tugged unceremoniously on your face, making you wince slightly when he pressed his bulge against your face.

"You want this or not?"

You pushed away from him, Leon slacking a bit, and you were glaring at him the whole time you unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his slacks, and pushed his briefs down to reveal his throbbing and engorged cock.

Precum was pearling at the tip already, a few veins that wrapped around the shaft pulsing slightly, and the head was a deep red from how hard Leon was. His balls were heavy and full, ready to be emptied into any of your holes, and you had to admit: even his cock was pretty.

Slipping your tongue out, you teasingly swiped at the tip, the salt taste of his precum making your nostrils flare, and Leon's eyes shut just the slightest. Then, you were slipping him into your mouth, and Leon's head fell back; eyes rolling.

How long had it been since he'd been intimate with someone? God, he was rusty. If just your mouth was enough to make his whole body freeze up, how was your pussy going to make him act? Leon needed to get a grip.

But you were sucking him so well, swallowing him down as much as you could as if you were trying to prove something, and Leon's hips stuttered. Your tongue was pressing against his shaft; wiggling and rolling, and Leon couldn't help but to moan languidly.

"Jesus Christ, princess. You must get around, huh?"

You looked offended, sliding off of his cock to berate and scold him, but Leon fucked his cock into your mouth, your eyes widening.

"Nu-uh. I don't want a hear a fucking word come out of your noisy mouth."

He was using you as a fleshlight, fucking his cock into your throat and grunting each time his balls slapped against your chin, and he was certain that his computer chair was going to break from how squeaky it was becoming.

He can just make you order a new one later...or have you use it so you could remember the way he shoved his cock down your throat. The thought made Leon's cock jump, and he was gonna cum if he wasn't careful. Slipping out of your mouth, you coughed slightly, inhaling and gulping deep breaths of air, and Leon pulled you up by your hair and bent you over the desk.

Ripping the remnants of your skirt a part, your panties and pantyhose were on display, a cute little thong with a pink bow in the back greeting him.

"Aw, you like bows, huh? Who would have thought? And look, you're so soaked for me. You like being put in your place, don't ya, sweetheart?"

"For a dog, all you do is bark."

Leon's eyes dilated, a chuckle coming from deep within him as he ripped your pantyhose open and slid your thong to the side.

"Then I'll show you just how hard this dog can bite."

Hanging heavy between his legs, his cock pulsed, ready to spear you open, and Leon guided himself between your wet lips, biting his lip. You were staring at him from over your shoulder, waiting to see what he would do, and Leon leaned forward and grabbed the back of your neck, hissing into your ear.

"Look at me. I want to see your face as I split your pussy open."

Leon hissed slightly through his teeth when he slipped his cock inside of you, and holy fuck, you were heavenly. Your eyes widened, mouth falling agape, and your fingers were clutching onto the edge of his desk as hard as they could.

You were so warm and tight, Leon wasn't sure if it was just because it'd been a while or if you were just made for him, but he was addicted. You were so goddamn wet, he could feel your slick against his pelvis, and Leon couldn't help but to start pounding.

You were biting your lip, trying to keep the moans from spilling out, and Leon couldn't help but to moan and rest his forehead against your shoulder. Quickly, that mean demeanor began to leave him with every thrust into your pussy; desperation for release clinging to him.

He needed this. He needed this relief; to vent out his frustrations in a way that left Leon feeling satisfied. Did he mean to do it this way? Probably not, and definitely not with you, but he had made his bed and he would lie in it.

Leon's hips were pounding into you as hard as they could, your whimpers and whines like music to his ears, and Leon was holding onto you tightly, wrapping his arms around you tightly and grunting.

"Fuck, fuck, you're so goddamn hot....feel so goddamn good."

You were whispering his name, afraid to be heard or seen, and Leon hissed into your ear.

"Say it louder. I want them to hear. I want everyone in the DSO to know that you're my cock-hungry little assistant who just can't help herself."

You squeezed your eyes shut, reaching back to grip at his hip, and you whined out.

"Leon! You're too deep. It...it hurts!"

Leon almost didn't listen to you, the smug feeling in his head clouding his judgement for a moment until he relented. Leon adjusted his position, asking you in a moment of sweetness that had your mind rolling.

"Fuck...fuck...are you alright?"

The kindness and worry that was in his voice made you confused for a moment; almost wondering if it was still Leon that was inside of you, and you nodded, panting as you took a breather.

"Yeah...shit...you're just...too damn big. No wonder you're such a dick."

Leon snorted, kissing your cheek and whispering into your ear.

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it."

Leon pulled back, hands on your hips, and he began to pound into you again. You gasped from the sensation, forehead on the wood of his desk, and Leon groaned.

"Goddamn, princess, you feel so damn good wrapped around me. Gonna fill you up...or maybe I'll cum on your tits...maybe your ass?"

Leon couldn't make up his mind. You couldn't respond, too enthralled by the feeling of his cock stretching you, and Leon moaned, his brows furrowing up. His cock was throbbing; a knot within his stomach forming, and he was aware that he was going to cum soon.

"Tell me where you want it, sweetheart."

You whined slightly before whispering to him.

"I don't fucking care."

He spanked your ass, making you yelp.

"I asked you a question. Answer me properly."

You bit your lip, and he slapped your other ass cheek, making you hiss and exclaim.

"Fuck, in me!"

"Where, baby girl, be specific."

You whined in frustration, exclaiming loudly.

"Cum in my pussy, goddammit!"

Leon moaned loudly, fucking into you faster and rougher until his thrusts became irregular, and he came deep inside of you, filling you up with his cum. Leon was panting, sweat rolling down his temple and neck, and you were in worse shape than he was.

Poor you, your whole outfit was completely ruined. Your makeup, your demeanor, you were completely wrecked and it was all because of him.

Leon pulled out, and he manhandled you to your back, making your eyes widen.

"What are you doing?"

"Shush."

Leon sat down on his chair, and he leaned down to comfortable start eating you out. Your eyes widened, and Leon moaned at the taste of your fucked-out pussy; his cum mixing with your taste and making his cock jump a bit in his hand.

Your hand was twisting within his hair, pulling, and Leon's tongue flattened against your clit. He suckled on you, suckling his cum out a bit, and you squirmed a bit beneath him.

"Leon..."

Leon opened his eyes to look up at you, and you were watching him with a soft yet embarrassed look on your face. Your bottom lip was bitten between your teeth, your chest heaving with every breath, and Leon moaned softly as he began to jerk his half-hard cock.

You were so goddamn sexy.

Leon closed his eyes again, shoving his tongue as deep into you as he could, moving his freehand up to thumb at your clit. You were moaning softly, head falling back, and Leon suckled on you again, suckling your clit into his mouth and flicking his tongue.

"God, you're so good with your mouth. You must get around, huh?"

Sassy jackass, Leon had to think. Leon groaned again, that familiar knot growing, and he could tell that you were getting close as well by the way your legs shook and tightened around his head. You laid back all the way onto his desk, shoving his face deeper and closer to your cunt, and Leon moaned gently.

He gulped noisily, swallowing his saliva and cum and your juices, and Leon looked at you as you moaned loudly, back arching slightly, and his eyes widened slightly when your legs closed around his head tightly, your hips jerking and bucking into his face as you bit your hand to keep your noises from getting too loud.

Leon drank your juices greedily, moaning as he came into his hand, catching as much of his cum as he could, and the two of you panted again. Leon leaned back, teasingly wiping his cum all over your pussy before he looked up at you as you spoke.

"So, you gonna do those reports now?"

Leon didn't know why, but for some reason, he couldn't help but to laugh at your words. Was it the absurdity? The randomness of your question? God only knew. Leon was only aware that you were giggling too, sitting up with a mischievous grin. Leon shrugged, a smirk on his wet lips.

"You got yourself a deal."

"What do you mean?"

Leon licked his fingers, your eyes watching with awe as he smirked at you.

"Every report you want me to do, I get to fuck that pretty pussy of yours."

You swallowed slightly, humming as you watched him lick his own cum off of his fingers.

"Every ten reports."

"Five."

You sighed and relented.

"Fine."

Leon smirked before he pulled his briefs and slacks up, buckling his belt and taking in your ripped clothing.

"I think I got a change of clothes in the locker-room at the training facility. Why don't you just sit all pretty for me and wait for me to get back? I'll make sure to lock the door."

You just made a face at him, and Leon gave you a look.

"You want the clothes or not?"

"Yeah, yeah, just...whatever."

You were shy, almost ashamed, but Leon didn't comment on it. The two of you could talk about it more when he got back and sat down and worked on the reports with you. With a new spring to his step, Leon locked the door to his office and watched as DSO agents and office workers alike began to file in. It was gonna be so fun to watch you try to explain why you were wearing his clothes if someone asked.

He'd make sure to tell Hunnigan to ask just so he could watch your face.

God, he loved his job.

END

IF YOU ENJOYED THIS WORK, PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT AND REBLOG. SUPPORT YOUR CONTENT CREATORS <3<3<3

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s. kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon s. kennedy #leon scott kennedy #resident evil

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c0kitty · 6 months ago

Text

NOW PLAYING ... STAY THE NIGHT ft. fwb!abby anderson x f!reader

(⭑) content: wc 600+ hc. modern au. fwb!abby. smut-ish. cursing. dickhead!abby. soccer player!abby. both in uni.

READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

(⭑) ── soccer player!abby who you disliked with a passion. it wasn’t for no reason. abby’s constant air of arrogance, her playboy-mentality with women, and her ability to have everyone at her will — just being the school’s soccer champion, didn’t sit well with you.

so, it was your surprise when you ended up in her freaking bed later that week.

you don't entirely remember how it happened, but one moment you were at ellie’s party, doing an intense shot-game with abby, and the next — you both were severely drunk in ellie’s bathroom, cornered, with you on the counter, and abby’s lips on yours.

you remembered small fragments of the night: abby’s lips being so soft, and tongue tasting like a mixture of vodka and grapefruit. your legs being propped around abby’s hips.

abby’s rough hands, slipping through your unbutton jean’s and into your soaked panties.

her voice, low and soothing in your ear, “c'mon let me hear you, princess.”

it was different from her usual rough tone with you; and the worst part is you liked it. liked her praising you, whispering sweet-nothings.

(⭑) ── soccer player!abby, who fucks you out. the night after was a bit of a whiplash for you. your lips kiss-swollen, dark hickies splayed on your neck, and you were wearing abby’s jersey

abby’s arm was wrapped at your hips, holded tight like she would die before letting you go. her body half-naked only in boxers.

and for some reason having seeing abby like that, stirred so many emotions. to desire, warmth, comfort.

(⭑) ── soccer player!abby, who you can’t sleep with again — you couldn’t be like those girls she’d fuck and get bored with after they’d caught feelings.

so, you leave without a word. but, soon after, you guys would see each other in class, eye’s drawn to each other.

…and it more or less happens again, rushed in a random janitor’s closet, again in abby’s freakishly-clean room, and again, in abby’s truck, her hands pushing your shaky legs apart, two fingers curling at your g-spot.

(⭑) ── fwb!abby, who is obsessed with you, always has been. she liked how you were always head on with her stubbornness, she loved how confident, smart, pretty, especially in those mini-skirts you always wear.

and, even though abby did love etching a reaction out of you, she wanted something more; beyond the snarky exchanges you guys had.

so with this arrangement you guys had goin’ on — all it did was fuel that even more.

to your pretty little moans to her ears, your strawberry glossed-lips, and how you chanted her name reaching your high.

she didn’t want anybody else to have this — have you.

(⭑) ── fwb!abby, who you continue with this fwb thing for two-months. it was at first to you, a way to release pent-up frustration with school and life, plus the sex was good. but after a while

… you wouldn’t just immediately leave after you guys fucked, sometimes you and abby would actually have civil conversations, joke around, watch movies in bed, cuddle.

it was all starting to seem … coupley. and it scared you how much you didn’t mind it.

not minding when she arrived after-practice sweaty, at your doorstep, showering you with kisses, not minding her head on your lap as she slept snoring softly, and not minding staying up late, embarrassingly-waiting for abby to respond to your texts.

it’s not entirely glitz and glamor. you guys would still argue, more so about stupid shit.

like who’s gonna get the remote that’s on the floor, which results into a big disagreement.

(⭑) ── yet as the weeks passed, the arguments seemed to dwindle and sometimes, abby would apologize, with your favorite food in hand.

it's very unfinished but yay i posted! 😭

#abby x reader #abby anderson x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x female reader #tlou x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x black reader #abby x black reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x you #abby angst

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kiyoomi-levin · 11 months ago

Text

Morning Routine pt.1 [nsfw]

(Wakatoshi Ushijima x F!Reader)

a/n this is something i wrote and edited today in a single run >.< I wanted to release a haikyuu fluff fic for my tumblr debut but i was just possessed by something this morning and rolled outta bed and just typed this up hehe.. reblogs and comments appreciated!! i have like 12 unfinished works rn and i am busting my ass off to get those finished and published! please be on the lookout for more from me!

summary:: wakatoshi has a bad habit-- his morning routine revolves around you. more specifically, cumming to the sounds of you. warnings:: wakatoshi is highkey a creep/stalker but this fic is fluffy i promise music rec!:: 2fast by superm <AKA the song i listened to when writing> word count:: 1.9k

6:33 AM, the blinking clock reads.

He doesn’t even need an alarm now.

Silently, Wakatoshi rolls over, reaches over to his nightstand and grasps the two items he needs most– lube and toilet paper.

Sighing, he sits himself up, leaning against the headboard of the bed, and, as if awaiting instructions, goes very, very still.

In a way, he is waiting for orders. You just aren’t aware that you’re the one giving them.

6:34 AM. A mere minute before you’re up and he can get started with his day. It doesn’t feel right, yet he can’t stop. Shaking his head, Wakatoshi shifts his weight around, impatient.

I should stop.

There it is. That nagging voice of reason that scolds him every morning. But really, at this point, he can’t function normally without you.

There’s a certain amount of stress that comes with carrying the title of ace. All the papers praising his skills, cheering fangirls, and words of encouragement from coach only added to the ever growing expectations that people had for him.

Luckily, when he was a senior in high school, Wakatoshi had discovered what best alleviates this pressure– not meditation, not Tendo’s comics, but sexual relief.

Every morning, a quick handjob does the job, gets him into prime condition. He even checked with his primary doctor to ensure it’s safe and healthy to release everyday– “you’ll be fine, Wakatoshi, as long as you don’t consume too much porn,” the old man had advised kindly.

He took the doctor’s words to heart– since he had discovered this method of relief, Wakatoshi had never viewed porn. Some of his teammates laughed at him when they found out he almost religiously avoids it, but he doesn’t want to contaminate his brain with potentially intrusive or disturbing visions. His imagination has always been enough, after all.

Until he met you.

In a way, you’re both a blessing and a curse– probably the latter, he admits to himself. Because since he’d met you months ago, the only thing that’s been able to get him up is you.

He’s never slept so well, his skin has never looked so clear, and, most importantly, his condition on court has never been better. He’s considered the possibility of you being a goddess, or possibly his guardian angel and can only rule those out with the fact that you, like him, masturbate.

More accurately, masturbate. Every. Single. Morning.

Then he hears it. The first soft moan. Wakatoshi glances at the time– 6:37 AM. You’re getting a slightly late start today.

No matter. He lifts his hips, gently rolls down his gray sweats to his lower thigh. He’s already hard. He doesn’t even have to touch himself now to get excited. Your quiet voice and the thoughts of you are enough.

Poor you. You’re unaware that despite residing in a luxurious, single-person room reserved for school athletes, the walls are criminally thin.

Wakatoshi pops open the lid of the lube, squirting a glob into his warm hand. He throws aside the bottle, barely registering as it bounces off the bed, only intent on listening into the sounds of you and your body.

When he first grasps his cock, he has to hold back a groan. Despite it being an everyday routine, he still feels the same surge of pleasure as when he first started this nasty habit months ago.

You're breathing slightly more heavily now, and he hears the sounds of your fingers inserting and exiting your body at a familiar pace. He follows along, carefully stroking up and down.

He wonders where you’ve learned this from, because you always go at the perfect pace. Somedays, you go slower, teasing yourself, pausing just before you orgasm, but it’s always.

It’s always exactly what he needs.

God. He knows this is wrong, even as he pumps faster with his left hand to keep up with your quick fingers. It feels so good.

Next door, you’re beginning to let out soft cries.

He presses his thumb against the tip, holding back a moan of his own as he envisions you jerking him off.

He’s seen your hand before– extra soft from being in gloves for multiple hours daily as a fencer.

Thinking about your sport has him thinking about his, and now he’s back to thinking about how wrong this is. But he can’t help it, he’s already tried to give it up once– yielding horrible results.

The day he held back and skipped a morning fap session with you was also the hardest day of his life. He had found himself unable to focus in lecture, especially grumpy towards Tendo’s typically bearable antics, and worst of all, all his hits were off.

“Your schedule must be off,” his captain had said, casually tossing a ball high into the air.

“Bad sleep? Rough morning?”

Wakatoshi had blinked at him wordlessly, wondering how the tall setter had guessed accurately.

“It’s fine,” the third-year had reassured him, “just get back on track tomorrow.”

With that, Wakatoshi had found himself ‘back on track,’ masturbating with– no, to you– every morning.

You’re moaning out loud now, almost whimpering. His cock pulses in his hands, veins bulging, growing hotter and heavy. Fuck, he just wants to see you right now. Your cute face, your sexy neck, gorgeous arms...

He can almost see it now– your smooth thighs shaking and twisting as your small hands would grasp your pillow. He’d make you feel so good, he just knows it. He’d lean against you, kiss your neck and ear before whispering how good you are, how you’re making him cum, how much he loves you!

You’d cum, and he wouldn’t stop. He’d want to see your eyes roll back over and over again, and he’d memorize every inch of your face.

Wakatoshi holds back another groan. His fisted hand feels so good against his cock, especially as it imagines it’s your tight pussy.

Contrary to what Tendo believes (the only one to know about this bad habit) it wasn’t just your soft moans and quiet gasps that had him clenching his sheets as he lifted his hips.

He had long fallen for you, since you had first locked eyes with him in the long hallway.

There was something about you. The way you always smile up at him gently– not in the way that other girls smile at him, as if they want something (usually his number)– but a genuine smile, eyes crinkling slightly.

This unexpected attraction was only exacerbated when you sat next to him at the first-years’ dinner party. You smelled so fucking good and listened to his words with actual interest, asking him about his family and laughing at his lame jokes.

Unfortunately, he was also scared.

He had heard about the countless rejections you’d dished out since the first day of university.

Despite his perceived sexual ignorance, Wakatoshi knew everything there was to know– he was popular, too, in his own right. Tall and lean, there were girls throwing themselves on him left and right.

But he only wanted you.

Today, he must be extra stressed (especially with that upcoming psychology exam that he hasn’t studied for yet) because he’s so, so close, yet can’t seem to finish.

Fine then.

He leans over, grabs his cell phone. He only does this in emergency cases, which occurs about once or twice a month.

Swiping up, he’s greeted by his photo gallery, opened the night prior for this cause.

In his locked gallery awaits dozens of photos of you.

Obviously none were taken by him!

Wakatoshi’s a creep, but one with manners and boundaries.

This gallery is cluttered with headshots of you from the school’s official website, silly photos of you that were sent into the college athlete’s group chat, and his favorite– photos of you from your close friend who sells them to him at fair prices, starting at $10 minimum.

None are suggestive. But they still rile him up, maybe because the only connection he has with you is through your early morning activities.

Wakatoshi desperately taps on the newest picture he bought for $40, quadruple the usual price– he can hear your breath hitching, and he knows you’re almost done.

He wants to finish with you so bad.

He was going to save this picture for next week, when he knows you’ll be gone for the fencing nationals and he’ll have to cum without you for an entire miserable, dreadful, god-forsaken week–

but he doesn’t care now. Nothing matters.

It’s a glorious photo– when he heard your friend had it, he had grabbed her by the shoulders and demanded a price.

You. On the beach. Under an umbrella. Lying on a purple towel.

He had paid an extra ten dollars for the motion picture– so he could watch you go from ass up onto your back, breasts jiggling and cheeky smirk in full action.

That’s enough.

He holds his fist tight–one more pump and he’s finished, but he wants to make sure you’re cumming first– and he hears it– to his relief, you’re moaning and whispering– “‘m cumming!”

Yeah, he’s cumming too. His hips lift again, and he drags his closed fist downwards against his wet cock. His vision blurs.

“Fuck!”

He can’t help it, today’s orgasm is especially strong, taking control of his full body. He’s shaking, mind barely in control as he continues to slowly pump to ride out the whole orgasm. After all, that’s what you’d do, right? You’d keep riding him, even as he finished and begged you to stop.

Thank God we came together.

Sometimes, you bait him. More often than he likes, you switch it up, holding yourself back and not allowing yourself to cum before masturbating all over again for an even more powerful orgasm. Those days suck– when he’s already softening, cum all over his large hands, and you’re still going.

He hears your bed squeak, and he sighs– as soon as it starts, it’s already over.

6:45 AM, his phone reads. Wakatoshi tosses it aside.

Thankfully, he had pulled his phone away in time, avoiding tainting the device with his release. A few times a month, he gets careless and cums onto an open picture of you, causing him to have to run through his shower extra fast so he can leave time to wipe down the device.

Rolling off the bed, he heads towards the shower leisurely. It’s also become a part of his routine to time his shower. It makes him feel even more intimately connected to you.

Wakatoshi’s grateful you take long showers– you’ve never taken less than 24 minutes to shower, typically, they last about 34 minutes on average. That gives him the time to jump out first and wait to exit his room at the same time you depart from yours.

Under the heat of warm water, he’s usually consumed with thoughts of you, impossible thoughts, like maybe you know.

The wall between you and him is equally thin, and your hearing may be as equally good as his…

Maybe you know, and you like masturbating with him.

And then, just as a precaution, he douses himself with cold water at the end of his shower, and those thoughts dissipate with the steam escaping towards the vent.

Like everyday, Wakatoshi laces his shoes, sprays on his favorite cologne (that your friend claims you like) and inhales, bracing himself to see you.

As he hears your feet shuffle, he pushes his door open first, stepping out into the warm hallway.

“Good morning, Wakatoshi!” You greet, eyes brightening. He nods, gulping. That’s an acceptable form of greeting, right?

As the two of you walk towards the elevator in silence, Wakatoshi can’t help but hope that this morning routine won’t be coming to a stop anytime soon.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n and that's a wrap :,) i really hope you liked and sorry the ending is highkey shit LOL as i kept editing i kept adding and removing more and more and honestly that's kind of my biggest weakness:: i'm never satisfied with my work and i'm scared ppl won't like it ... but i'm trying to overcome that!

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu #wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyuu wakatoshi #hq wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima smut #haikyuu ushijima #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader

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thebibliosphere · 6 months ago

Note

Phangs called me out in the most hilarious way.

For years I've been planning on painting the ceiling (or alternatively the wall my bed is put against) like a celestial map as soon as I moved out from the flatshare-from-hell I was in. Three, four years, at least, and before there were vague plans for it, too.

Fast forward to me finally moving at the end of last month and thinking 'Huh but what if I ever need to move again, I can't take a wall with me', and 'Knowing myself I'll end up with a half painted ceiling when I inevitably run out of steam halfway through' so I decided instead of painting it, I would find dark blue curtains to embroider the celestial map onto which I would then pin to the ceiling; for ease of transport should it ever become necessary. You know, because painting a ceiling wouldn't have been tedious and finnicky enough.

After moving, I also miraculously regained the ability to actually sit down and read, so I picked a book, sat down, read it cover to back, and only then got up again. Imagine my surprise when a certain vampire in the story'd had the exact same idea as me, only with the certainty that paint would be a viable option due to longterm tenancy. I may have yelled in delighted outrage.

And yes, I have unmedicated ADHD. (Vlad is mine to protect now. Would have been, anyway, but now it's personal.)

Lmao, this is so funny. Uh, sorry not sorry? If it makes you feel any better, I was absolutely calling myself out with that segment.

Vlad’s desk might contain centuries of unfinished projections and fluctuating hyperfixations but I’ve probably got him beat 🤣

#hunger pangs asks

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obsessedelusional · 10 months ago

Text

chocolate (smut)

paring ↬ Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary ↬ You’ve been with Eddie for over three years, it’s only natural that the two of you would get comfortable? But are you too comfortable? It’s been nearly a month since you two had sex. When you realize that it sends you into a panic, desperate to find that spark again. You purchase enhancing chocolate and a sexy outfit, as a a surprise. What happens when your plans fall through, causing a argument?

word count ↬ 2.4K

a/n: thank you for all the love on my last eddie one shot, inspired me to finish this.. which if I’m being entirely honest is from a request from well over a year ago and has been sitting unfinished since then.. anyways.. luveeee you

Feedback & Reblogs appreciated! Thank you ᜊ

Being three years into a relationship things can become stagnant but you always swore that would never happen to your relationship with Eddie. Yet here you two were on your way into the roommate phase. You two too comfortable cohabiting, like a couple of friends sharing a bedroom. A bedroom that hasn’t seen any action in weeks. Three weeks, four days to be exact.

A few day shy of a month is when it hit you like a ton of bricks. Sending you into a deep one sided spiral focused on your relationship with Eddie. No one’s to blame, both of your work schedules taking up so much time. Eddie worked Monday through Friday at the local mechanic shop. His weekends usually spent with his band. Between attending college and work, you we’re just as busy.

It was a rare occasion that your schedules aligned to have the same day off. So when a coworker asked to switch days off so they could have Tuesday off and you’d be off on Sunday, you happily agreed. Deciding in that moment you’d do something to reignite the relationship.

After some thought you decided to surprise Eddie with some sexy goodies. A quick trip to the local sex shop and less than a hundred dollars later, you have a bag full of supplies. You decided on a black lace lingerie set that didn’t leave much up to the imagination and aphrodisiac chocolate. Something you have never done with Eddie before. When you get home Eddie isn’t there so you hide your new things saving them for Sunday.

—

“You work today?” Eddie asks curiously, when he comes out of the bathroom to find you sat in the kitchen. Normally by now you were long gone, it’s almost noon and he’s just waking up.

“No someone wanted to switch so I have today off.” You explain, smile plastered across your face. It was Sunday afternoon and you were excited to execute your plans. Eddie moves closer towards you, examining the spread of breakfast you prepared for him.

“What’s all this for?” He asks reaching for a slice of bacon throwing it into his mouth.

“For you. Just wanted to do something special.” You respond, Eddie wraps his half naked body around you enveloping you in a tight hug.

“Thank you baby.” He says face digging into your shoulder, smelling your hair. He pulls away just far enough to brush it out of the way. Moving in again, kissing up your neck. You have so much pent up sexual frustration you’re ready to say fuck this food and your entire plan, ready to let Eddie take you right then and there.

Before you can take it to the next level, he pulls away completely. Grabbing a plate and serving himself the food you prepared. Eddie doesn’t notice the exaggerated eye roll you give just sits down at the table, filling his face.

“This is delicious,” he mumbles between chewing bringing a smile back to you. You join him with your own plate, sitting next to him. He does the silly little thing he’s always done, dragging your chair with you in it closer to him. He looks proud when your close enough to his liking, going back to the meal in front of him. You eat filled with contentment that after all these years he still does the tiny things still.

“Any plans for today?” You ask. Eddie looks up from a his plate like he’s thinking.

“Yeah the bands meeting at two to practice for a few hours.” He says, your face tells on you falling into a frown.

“I promise as soon as we’re done. You’ll have my full undivided attention all night, okay?” He does his best to reassure you but you can’t help but feel irritated and it’s apparent in your demeanor.

“Is there something else you wanted to do today?” He asks, confused by your sudden change in mood.

“I had a surprise for you but I’ll guess it’ll wait.”

“What was it?” He asks.

“It can wait... You can find out when ever you decide to come home.” You respond, the annoyance heavy in your tone.

“Whatever.” He laughs causing an unreasonable amount of anger to flood over you.

“Whatever? I just wanted to do something for us today.” You raise your voice standing up in the process, leaving Eddie sat alone at the table. He lets out an defeated groan, you ignore it. Heading straight to your bedroom. Suddenly the apartment feels too small wishing you could escape somewhere else. Crawling into bed, hiding under the covers letting the frustrated tears fall.

—

You’re not sure how much time has passed, you had fallen asleep after you and Eddie’s little tiff. The sound of someone entering the room is what stirs you, the feeling of Eddie climbing into bed next to you is what fully wakes you. He slips through the covers, finding you and cuddling with you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. You roll over to face him, he looks genuinely upset.

“I’m sorry too.” You sigh. Eddie goes to talk but you cut him short by speaking up.

“I just wanted to do something special for you because we’ve basically turned into roommates.”

“Baby that’s not true.”

“It is Eddie. We haven’t had sex in almost a month.”

“No it hasn’t been…” His voice trails off trying to remember the last time, drawing a blank.

“It’s no one’s fault, we’re both just busy. I was so excited to spend today with you, I should have told you beforehand not just expected you.” You say, holding back tears. Eddie has started lightly tracing the side of your face listening to you speak.

“The insecure part of me has been spiraling for the last week, thinking the worst. That maybe we haven’t done anything because you don’t want me anymore.” As you talk the tears slowly trickle out from your eyes, landing on your pillow. Eddie wipes away at your tears before responding, pulling you in closer in the process.

“That is far from the case, baby. I love you so much. I’ve been working so much and focusing on the band. I forgot to prioritize you.” He pulls you all the way, slipping an arm under you hugging you tightly. Placing a sweet kiss on your head.

—

After a much needed conversation that lasted a solid hour, Eddie and you were still laid in bed. Topic had moved on to something less heavy. Eddie was now sat up in bed, you resting your head in his lap while he plays with your hair. You had just found out that he skipped practice because he felt so shitty.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I’m glad I did. This was needed. Plus how will I ever get my surprise, huh?” You shake your head no feeling as if the moments been ruined.

“Come on just tell me what it was.” He begs, you push up from his lap to see his face. His big brown puppy eyes on full display, bottom lip pouting. He knew exactly how to get what he wanted. You groan before getting out of bed and heading straight to the drawer where you hid the goodies. In a swift motion you pull out the plastic bag, tossing it at Eddie. He catches it pulling out the items inside.

“This isn’t gonna fit me.” He jokes, holding the lingerie by a single strap. You roll your eyes before snatching it out of his hands. He continues digging through the bag finding the special chocolate.

“Chocolate?” He asks confused.

“It’s enhancing chocolate.” His face is still full of confusion.

“It’s suppose to stimulate blood flow, enhances performance.” You explain watching as Eddie reads over the box.

“What are we waiting for?” He asks, ripping open the package. Before you can protest he plops his half in his mouth, passing you the other half. You follow in his lead eating the chocolate.

“How long does it take?” Eddie asks, examining the box further.

“20 to 40 minutes? What the hell are we supposed to do until then?” He says throwing the box the side, looking up at you. Eyes going from the lingerie to your face, his grin growing.

“We can start with you putting that on.” Eddie suggests.

A few long minutes later, you come out of the bathroom dressed in your new lingerie. His eyes find you, muttering ‘fuck’. He stands up from the bed approaching you. Once he’s a few inches away from, his hands find your hips. Letting himself explore your body in this new outfit. Tracing the lacey undergarment with his hands.

“You are so fucking beautiful.” He whispers, pulling you closer. He lifts your face before pressing his lips to yours, kissing you softly. You return the kiss, you fingers reaching behind his neck. Finding his hair and tangling them in the nape of his neck, tugging slightly. Just enough to elicit a small moan from his lips.

You two are twisted together, without breaking the kiss he begins to take a few steps back. You follow as he sits on the bed, climbing into his lap. Pushing him till he’s on his back and you’re straddling his hips. You’re eager, ready to take it farther kissing down his neck. Lowering your body, pressing delicate kisses along his torso as you go.

Eddie watches closely as you pull his bottoms off, lifting his hips and helping you to get him undressed. As soon as he’s fully nude, your making yourself comfortable inbetween his legs.

“How do I know it’s the chocolate and not what you’re doing that has my dick so hard?” He questions, making you roll your eyes laugh in softly.

“Shh..” You respond, taking his erection in your hand pumping it slowly.

When he doesn’t shut up trying to press the question again, you kiss his tip before licking the crown of his cock. That shuts him up, watching your lips part around him. Your head moving up and down. Eddie lets his moans out as his tip hits the back of your throat. His eyes nearly roll in the back of his head when your hand starts to play with his balls.

“F-fuck!” Eddie groans as he gently pushes your head lower, enjoying the sight of his cock dissaprering into your throat.

A mess of your saliva pools at the base of his cock. He holds you there for a few moments, tears forming at your eyes until he lets go. You quickly lift your head, a long web of drool hangs from your lips to his cock. You make eye contact wipe it away then use that hand to pump him again.

Before you can continue, he’s guiding you up his body. Kissing your swollen and slick lips. Your core rests on his wet cock, you don’t waste a moment grinding your hips. Both of you moan into the kiss at the friction. His cock slips through your folds, hitting your clit. It feels too good and he hasn’t even entered yet. You’ve been waiting too long for this, so you raise your hips. He takes the hint aligning himself with your hole. You sink down slowly, inch by inch.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” Eddie mutters, his hands gripping your hips. The feeling of being filled is overwhelming. The stretch is a bit paniful but in the best way possible. You look down at Eddie before moving your hips at a steady pace. Both of you moaning, his grip tightening leaving marks in their wake. Guiding your hips to move faster.

Your pace quickens, taking him deeply. Every inch of him plunging into your warmth. You’re too distracted by the sensation to notice him pulling you closer. Eddie hungrily kissing you, his tongue asking for permission by sliding against your lips. Your mouth opens, tongues meeting each other. Without any warning Eddie’s hips thrust into you. A moan breaks the kiss, as he continues to jerk himself into you. His movements matching yours. It stops for a moment only because Eddie is rolling over on top of you.

“Get on your knees, I want to fuck you from behind.” He demands and you gladly listen. Positioning yourself infront of him, your ass up and face down.

Eddie take his cock, pushing it in one quick thrust. Watching as he disappears into your hole. He’s pounding into you, giving you no time to adjust. Your whimpers grow louder as he fucks you at a brutal pace. The sensation of his balls hitting your clit adds to the pleasure.

You’re gripping the sheets, pushing back against his thrusts. Eddie grabs a fist of your hair, pulling it. Tears swell at your eyes, it hurts so good. As you bite your lip, he continues his pace. Fucking you so roughly. Your body begins to tremble as you get closer to your finish, letting Eddie know your close. That what he is doing is working.

You disolve into pleasure, your body becoming putty as he keeps pounding into you. A chocked sob leaves your mouth as you come undone. Your walls spasm bringing Eddie closer to his end. With a few more jerks of hips he’s coming, panting your walls with his seed. He releases your hair, kissing your shoulder tenderly. He pulls out, dropping onto his back. You lay down next to him. Your chests heaving as you both try to breathe.

“How long is it supposed to last?” Eddie asks so you reach for the box.

“Uh… effect could last up to three hours.” You read out loud.

“I feel like I could go again.” He admits, looking down at his erection.

“Yeah?” You ask eagerly.

“Mhmm we have to make up for lost time.” He says, facing you bringing his lips to your chest. Nibbling softly on your skin.

“But I think it’s only fair I taste you this time.” He whispers, kissing down your stomach and to your core.

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swallowtail-lotus · 9 months ago

Text

Two is better than one {Hades x Goddess!Reader x Poseidon} (NSFW!)

Repost

I don't feel too proud of this tbh

Warnings: 18+, double penetration(yes please-), Poseidon being poseidon (probably ooc for the first part), pussy eating, creampie, mentions of overstimulation

_________

How did this happen?

One minute you were just minding your own business when one of the many servants of Poseidon told you to come over to their master's underwater palace, you get there and the next minute, you're in his room, trying to keep quiet as he mercilessly slams into you with incredible force. With every thrust, he was either dead silent or letting out quiet grunts.

"L-Lord Poseidon! What's the- Ah! meaning of this?" You managed to groan out, your lower region filled up with the god's length. Poseidon didn't respond and continued to slam in you. Your wrists were pinned to the bed by his hands.

What gotten into him all of a sudden? He was never like this before. He was always so distant from everyone, except for his older brother, Hades. Physical touch isn't something he approved of unless you meant something to him.

"Silence. You have no need to speak."

His words came out harsh, but that's just how he speaks to anyone (if he gave them the time that is). You shut your mouth after that, but it was proven to be difficult with his cock buried deep inside your entrance. Since one of his hands had your wrists pinned down, all you can do to keep quiet was to seal your lips.

Through your half lidded eyes, you try to took the time to bask in the surprising beauty the sea god has. His wavy blonde locks moving in sync with his thrusts, the sea blue eyes staring right into your own, muscles flexing from gripping both your wrists and the spot beside your head.

This whole situation was confusing on its own.

Then you remembered. A while back, Poseidon had asked for your hand in marriage. Being a goddess who wanted to wait, you politely declined the proposal. You guessed that didn't sit well with the God.

As if it couldn't get any more shocking, his older brother, Hades asked the same thing! Like before, you rejected and went on with your day.

Was Poseidon... Jealous?

Your questions were interrupted by the tip hitting your womb repeatedly. A surprised gasp left your lips, soon turning to whimpers.

"You'll regret rejecting me." He hissed, his hips bucking even faster than before. Your walls clenched around his cock, the organ twitching against them. You heard Poseidon take sharp inhales through his teeth, possibly a sign he was close. You felt yourself getting close too.

"I'm-" You could barely finish that sentence when his load shot into you, some of it leaking out of your pussy. Just as you were about to cum, he pulled out. Your legs twitched in place, slowly closing them to prevent anymore of his load coming out.

"W-why did you-"

"You don't deserve it yet." He interrupted you by answering your unfinished question. Your hand immediately went down to finger yourself when he loosen his grip on your wrists, but he stopped you from doing so.

"I said you. Don't. Deserve. It." He repeated, some hostility in his bland tone. You whimpered again, desperately grinding on the bed. His hands began to roam your body, not showing a hint of remorse to your current state. You couldn't take it anymore, and soon your juices came out. Until you were done, you fell back on the bed, your hair spread out and face flushed.

"Just from my touch? How pathetic." Poseidon spoke, eyeing your wet clit. You couldn't care less about his words, you were just glad this was all over...

Or so you thought...

~~~~~~~~~~

One month has passed, and you haven't been more relieved to see Poseidon as his usual self. Ever since that day, you've tried your best to avoid him more than ever. Originally, you found yourself sitting/standing next to the God, now you distance yourself by standing near other gods. When one of the servants searched for you, you'd hide.

But another problem began to rise up as soon as Hades came in. Except he was the problem.

Just like Poseidon, he was persistent in his advances, but he was also very subtle. However, it did get annoying over time. Sure, the flowers and jewellery were great gifts, and you appreciate them all, but sometimes it got on your nerves.

One day, a minor god fearfully approached you to tell you about Hades wanting to see you for important matters. This was unexpected, seeing how Hades rarely asks for anyone unless it was really urgent.

"I'll be there. Although I don't see why he needs me of all people." You commented, mostly to yourself. You made your way to the underworld, greeting Cerberus with a pat on the three heads. You managed to find the God, looking handsome as ever with his hair slightly messed up and his face not ruined in the slightest.

"Lord Hades? Why did you ask for me?" You questioned, your (e/c) eyes wide with curiousity. The God looked up from the desk, his normally stoic face softening at the sight of you.

"I just need your help with something." He answered, standing up from the desk. You watched him make his way towards you, his eye shining under the light. Before you could react, he trapped you between his arms, towering over you.

"I need you to answer me. Why did you reject me?" He leaned closer to your face, his lips only a few centimetres from yours. You were too afraid to respond, and being this close to the god wasn't helping.

"W-well, Lord Poseidon asked for my hand in m-marriage, and seeing you do the same c-caught me off guard.." Your response was barely a whisper, but given how close both of you were, Hades definitely heard it.

Hades took the time to properly admire your beauty, stroking your cheek with a small smile.

"I don't blame my brother. You remind me of the River Styx." You blinked at the comment he made. It was an odd way to compliment someone, but knowing Hades, this wasn't too surprising.

"How so?" You asked. Hades kept quiet, leaning even closer and left soft kisses on your neck, his hands moving to your sides. Your whole body shook in his hands, your eyes staring up at the ceiling.

His lips were strangely soft, but cold. He moved up from your neck to your lips. Unlike Poseidon, it wasn't forced but instead sweet, the coldness was nice against yours. Instead of fighting it, you caved in, moving your arms up to wrap them around his neck. You felt his hands trail down to your hips, hoisting you up by your thighs. You felt his bulge rub against your inner thigh.

His tongue came out to lick your lips, as if asking for permission. Your lips moved, enabling the god to wrestle with your tongue. He pulled away, much to your disappointment.

"L-Lord Hades.." You shuddered out, drooling slightly. Hades kept you up, unbuckling his pants with one hand. He used that hand to rip off your dress along with your panties. Once he was done, he put his hand under your right thigh, his cock out and fully erected. Your eyes widen at the sheer size of his length, which was about 7 inches. The tip had precum oozing out and poked at your entrance. Your heart was beating fast right now, legs trembling in his hands.

"May I?" The God inquired, his lips forming a smirk. You nodded eagerly, your hands now gripping his shoulders. After adjusting himself, he thrusted in slowly, burying his head in the right side of your neck. Out of instinct, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

"Fuck." Hades hissed in your ear, biting the lobe while bucking his hips faster. He was different than Poseidon, who did fill you up but not like Hades. Hades was the right size to hit you in the right spot. With every thrust, it brought you over the edge of pleasure. He picked up the pace, his breathing fanning your ear. One harsh thrust, you came all over his cock.

All of a sudden, Hades stopped completely, moving from your neck and his dick still inside. Your face turned to confusion, watching Hades with caution. Hades brought you to his desk, turned you over on your stomach. Your chest was pressed against the hard surface, your wetness dripping out. His warm, rough hands caressed your hips, his thumbs gently rubbing your skin. His length brushed against your ass, the underside sliding up and down.

You let out a gasp of shock when he slammed into your ass, rising up on your toes.

"I've been stressed lately, being a king is quite tiring, wouldn't you agree?" He teased suggestively, pressing himself against your back. Hades left soft kisses on your shoulder and neck, his hands now groping your chest. Your tongue hung out of your mouth, eyes rolled back to the back of your skull. The desk nudged forward from Hades constantly slamming into you.

Hades chuckled near your ear, couple of grunts here and there.

"Want me to use you all I want?" He asked, his fingers trailing along the lips of your pussy. You were too caught up with the bliss to answer back. Hades didn't wait for your response and shoved his fingers inside. He grunted out that he was close, which was barely audible, but you heard it crystal clear. Once he was satisfied, his pulled his fingers out, your cum coating his fingers. He takes one long lick at his fingers, tasting the liquid.

"Much sweeter than I thought."

One final thrust, his load came out in your ass and he pulled out. You caught your head when it was about to drop to the side, your face feeling heated up from the session. You managed to lift yourself up, panting heavily.

"Good little dove. You can stay here until you're ready to leave, okay?"

~~~~~~~~~

It's been four months since that happened, but you felt disappointed. Disappointed that it didn't last as long as you had hoped for, but it was fun nonetheless.

Hades was kind enough to take care of you until you were perfectly fine after that.

Now, an invitation from Zeus himself to an event was unexpected, seeing how you sometimes had trouble talking to gods from other pantheons. You wanted to decline, but knowing the supreme god, you decided to go so you wouldn't have to deal with his constant persistence. You are close to Zeus, but you thought your friendship wasn't this serious.

"You finally accepted my invitation! The first time in centuries, too!" Zeus exclaimed once he saw you. You gave him a smile and waved at him. Thankfully, he didn't try to approach you and stayed in his place.

You had to admit, Zeus does know how to keep parties lively. You thought you were gonna be bored in an instant, but Zeus proved you wrong. Even so, you still preferred to stay away from the other gods.

After two hours, you decided to leave. After roaming the huge corridors, you heard distant voices over the music. Slowly growing bored, you went over to check it out. You found the voices to be both gods who had longed pursued you.

Hades and Poseidon. And it seems that they weren't agreeing with each other on something.

"What the- may I ask why were you arguing?" You asked, looking at both gods, expecting an answer. Hades was the one who stepped up.

"We were simply discussing about you." Hades answered, lifting your chin up to look into your beautiful (e/c) eyes. Poseidon can only stare at his older brother with his usual emotionless face.

"Discussing what, exactly?" You asked, placing on your hands on your hips.

"About marrying one of us." Hades chuckled when he saw your frown. You wanted to groan out of annoyance, but you wasted that energy with the party. You sighed out, lowering your head.

"How many times must I say this? I don't want to marry neither of you!" You shouted, pretty upset they can't take the hint. The brother looked at each other and grabbed you by the wrist, leading you to a bedroom. You wanted to fight back, but they were one of the strongest gods in Valhalla.

Thinking back on the times where they made love to you, you had thought you hated it, but now you don't.

You stopped resisting and let them throw you on the bed. Poseidon slowly leaned down towards your face, forcefully pressing his lips to yours. His tongue overpowered your tongue, his hand groping your chest roughly.

"We can always do it the hard way, dove." Hades kneeled down in front of your clit, took off your clothes and immediately licked your pussy, holding your thighs up. You moaned in the kiss, wondering whenever to mess with Poseidon's hair or leave it be.

Hades pushed his tongue inside, face buried deep in your entrance. Poseidon shot back from you, his chest moving slowly from his breathing.

Hades pulled back, your pussy already wet. He stood up straight, climbing on the bed and set himself behind you. Poseidon shifted to position himself in front of you, setting his hands on your thighs. Without thinking, you moved your hands to undo Poseidon's pants, to which the latter didn't stop you. Hades lifted you up by the hips, positioning you on top of both their cocks. Their lengths slowly slide inside both your holes.

Thankfully, both of them let you take some time to adjust to their lengths and they start moving their hips. They went slow, but the pent up energy they had took over them and their hips moved at speeds unimaginable.

"Oh my- My lords-" Two hands groped your breasts, pinching your perked nipples.

"Good girl~" The grip on your tits tighten, two tongue taking each side of your neck. The lovebites they're leaving were much harder, and possible could leave bruises. All the stimulation previously held in had come flowing out, the cum leaking out both your holes.

Much to your confusion, they didn't pull out, but rather continued their animalistic thrusts.

"A-ah wait-" You tried to plea, but it fell on deaf ears. Their grunts filled your ears and the air in the room, the two gods not showing a single sign of stopping.

They never stopped until you eventually milked Poseidon's cock after the 5th round. After it was all over, you collapsed.

The next morning, your clit and ass were still extremely sore from last night. It was hard but you managed to get off the bed, only to stumbled forward. On the small nightstand laid a piece of paper, which you assumed to be a letter of sorts. You scurried over to read the letter, deciding to get back on the bed. You opened the letter, reading it over and over again.

Don't think we're done yet. See you real soon, my dove~

#yeah not my best lmao #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok x reader #record of ragnarok x reader smut #record of ragnarok hades x reader #record of ragnarok poseidon x reader #hades x reader #poseidon x reader #ror x reader #snv x reader

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sierra-r-a-e · 3 months ago

Note

Hyyy , love you work🩷 do you mind doing kento being a little bit mean due to frustration or maybe jealousy? Thank you 🎀

Hii, Thank you for requesting!! I’m sorry it’s so late though! 🎀

cw: jealous!nanami, orgasm denial, jealousy(obviously), hair pulling, edging, squirting

Nanami Kento was never one for being jealous, he didn’t care who you hung out with or was friends with, he trusted you.

It was when you purposefully flirted with one of his coworkers to get a rise out of him, that’s when he really gets fed up.

The two of you were attending one of his fancy work gatherings when he spotted you standing and laughing with Gojo, being casually touchy with him. He knew you were doing it on purpose because you glanced over at him, making sure he was watching.

That’s how you ended up in this position— Kento behind you, one of his hands gripping a fistful of your hair, the other pinning you hands behind your back as he pounded into you from behind.

“m’ sorry-“, you say through a moan, trying your best to speak despite the overwhelming pleasure from the pace of his thrusts.

“Yeah? You’re sorry?” He said through gritted teeth, pulling you up onto your knees by the hold he had on your hair and wrists. “You didn’t seem to sorry when you were having a good time with Gojo, now did you?” He grunted, his mouth right near your ear as he roughly pounded into your sopping hole.

You knew you shouldn’t be getting off on his frustration and jealousy— but god, it was so hot.

The hand he he’d been using to pin your wrists behind your back now reach around to your front and to your clit, rubbing tight circles into the bud.

You knew you definitely weren’t going to last long, especially not if he kept this up. In fact, it only took a few more thrusts before you felt the familiar sensation of an impending orgasm bubbling up in your abdomen.

“Ken, m’ so close,” you warned, barely able to form a coherent sentence. “You’re not allowed to cum until I say so, understood?” He spoke, the grip he had on your hair tightening, his hand then landed a light slap to your clit.

Your knees were beginning to weaken, but his strong arms kept you upright as he roughly thrusted his hips into you; the sound of his pelvis hitting your ass creating a lewd slapping sound that echoed through your bedroom.

“Please~”, you begged him. Hot, frustrated tears forming in the corners of your eyes and rolling down your cheeks. His hand was now rubbing torturously slow circles into your sensitive nub, letting your orgasm build up, then edging you by pulling his hand away.

“You can hold on a little longer,” he grunted, his voice more gravelly than before. You could tell he was close from the way he’d twitch every time your dripping cunt clenched around him.

“I’ll let you cum if you promise to behave from now on, got it?” He said, giving a firm tug on your hair, making you moan.

“I— I promise,” you spoke, hardly able to think straight at this point. “Cum for me then, sweetheart”, he commanded, his hand now expertly rubbing at your puffy clit.

With a loud moan of his name, you came hard, this being one of the rare times you squirted all over his cock. The way your pussy convulsed around him so deliciously had him reeling.

He came almost immediately after you, his arms trapping you against his muscular body as he shivered from pleasure.

Once the two of you came down from your respective highs, he spoke, “You know I know that you flirted with Gojo on purpose just to make me jealous, right?”

As always, he had managed to see right through you and your little schemes.

a/n:

yall i have had a rough month. first of all im in the marching band so that takes up a lot of my time, and the free time i do have, i spend it sleeping.

second of all, people threatened to shoot up my school twice so we kept going on lockdown and stuff. like why are they going for colleges now 💀

anyways i’m sorry this has been sitting in my drafts(unfinished) for an entire month. i hope you like it, im currently exhausted as im writing this so it’s not my best work

anyways thank you so much for reading!!

[divider credits: @/anitalenia]

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk x fem!reader #nanami kento #jjk nanami #jjk #nanami smut #mdni #jjk nanami x reader #kento nanami smut #nanami kento smut #jjk drabbles #jjk headcanons #jjk kento #kento nanami #nanami x reader

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lovrre · 7 months ago

Text

Agreement prt1

Art Donaldson x Fem black reader

Warnings: cursing, infidelity(kinda), slight smut (fingering) sub ish Art. Slight he loves her more trope, needy Art and probably some other stuff

Word count: 2k

Summary: Despite being engaged to one of the top and richest tennis players in the US, you feel unfulfilled. But everything changes when you transfer schools and meet Art Donaldson, who just can’t quit you.

Author note: GUYS GUYS, PLEASE DON’T KILL ME. MY WRITERS BLOCK HAS BEEN SO BAD YOU DONT UNDERSTANDDD, But I’m finishing all my requests and unfinished fics soon so stay tuned. 😚

Sitting on the bed in your brand new silk pajamas, you found yourself distracted, just like you had been the day before and the day before that. You played with The edge of the book you were attempting to read,mindlessly repeated the last sentence over and over in your head trying to retain anything. The loud television and the whirring of the ceiling fan only added to the chaos. Plus the freezing cold air conditioning of the hotel room made it impossible to concentrate.

In a desperate attempt to regain some semblance of focus, you clumsily reached for the remote, hoping to silence at least one of the distractions. your eyes falling on your fiancé who was sleeping peacefully, his dark hair all messy, in his crisp white t-shirt that matched perfectly to the expensive hotel sheets, he looked so sweet,so innocent. You thought if he slept more, maybe everything could work out

Mike slept while snuggled into your side. Like he often did when you two shared a bed, You had attempted to remove him several times but every time he ended right back at your side so you gave up, In any other scenario his action would seem romantic but they only made you feel worse than you were already feeling. In an effort to relieve some guilt you liked to reminded yourself your engagement was never out of love but business. But then again the line did blur in the beginning of your relationship. Before you left for Stanford, you and Mike got caught up in the act of pretending be in love.

After that you could never really tell real from fake with him, he didn’t like you talking to other men. He’d shower you with really expensives grift but then leave town and not answer your calls or text for days. But when no one was watching he’d try to hug and kiss you. The whole thing was confusing, You had known idea how he persived your relationship but you knew You Felt guilty, without all the technicallys, you knew that you still lied,

The people ate up the role you and Mike played. occasionally you’d have to leave campus and go out in public holding hands or sharing kisses in the rain. But it was all for show, at least on your end. Your Dad made sure to reminded you That, it was the love sick tennis player in love with his coaches daughter that sold tickets. kept the stands full of women hoping to catch the world win romances in action. Also Brought in a large number of his clientele. He promised It wouldn’t be forever unless you wanted to be. And Really how could you complain? 20 years old engaged to One of the wealthiest and most talented tennis players in the world and he wasn't bad looking either. Before all this, you weren't too keen on love anyway, so what were you really missing out on?

~~~

Ten months before

Patrick serves but Art's attention is elsewhere. The ball zooms past Art for the second time, prompting Patrick to turn around and finally see who's behind him. His gaze lands on you, playing tennis alone on a smaller court. The sun shining off your smooth, glistening skin, and your pink tennis dress gracefully flowing with each jump and run.

"Oh, I get it," Patrick chuckles, glancing back at Art. "She's hot. You should talk to her, maybe offer her a lesson. She could use it," Patrick suggests, looking back at you as you let another tennis ball from the machine fly past you . "I think I've seen her somewhere before," Patrick mutters, tapping his racket against his leg.

Still in a daze, Art jogged over to your court. "Oh, you're serious," Patrick murmured watching as he went over to you following closely behind him. "Hi," Art greets, slightly out of breath walking up to the net. "Hi?" you respond, slightly confused, giving him a small wave.

"Are you new here?"

"To the school or the court?" You ask

"Both."

"I'm new to both” you say a little breathless wiping sweat from your forehead.

“I just transferred," you explain.

"Where did you go before?"

"A small community college in Virginia."

"What about tennis?"

"You have a lot of questions," you laugh, tapping your tennis racket against your leg.

"Im just curious “Art jokes.

"I'm just doing this because my fiancé is a tennis player. I thought I'd try to learn," you reveal.

“Finance?” Art questions.

“Yep”

“ how old are you like 20?”

“ actually 19, I turn twenty in a couple months”

“And you're getting married?” Art asked clearly dumbfounded

“Yes” you laugh at his forwardness

", is he a pro or college?", Art asked, assuming the answer would be college.

“Pro," you replied, letting your curls fall freely from your hair tie. Art couldn't help but admire how beautiful you were,too young to be tied down

"Anyone we would know?" Art asks following you as you walk over to the bench with your tennis bag. "Hmm, maybe," you hum, sitting down to tie your shoe. "Mike Fitts."

"Your fiancé is Mike Fitts!" Patrick exclaims a little too loudly. "Mhmm," you confirm, starting to tie your other shoe. "If Mike Fitts is your fiancé, why are you here?"

"Are you referring to the court or the school?" you ask, looking up at both Art and Patrick.

"Both," Art and Patrick respond in unison.

You chuckled as you stuffed your tennis racket into your bag. "Well, whether I'm engaged or not, I always planned to graduate college. And Mike is too busy right now to teach me, so I'm trying to teach myself."

The two of them nod in understanding as you stand up. "It was really nice meeting both of you, but I have class," you announce, throwing your tennis bag over your shoulder. "By the way, it would be great if you guys could keep the whole fiancé thing on the down low. I'm trying to keep it as quiet as possible for now."

"Yeah, no problem," one of them replies.

"Of course," the other adds.

"Thanks, I really appreciate it," you say giving them a small smile before turning around to leave the court.

just as you're about to walk away, Art calls out after you, "Wait! You said you're trying to learn, right? we could coach you if you want” Patrick gives him a look and Art ignores it waiting for your response.

You pause, considering the offer.

”the both of you?” you asked gesturing between them. Art gives you a nod. at that moment The risk didn't seem too big so you said

. "Sure," with small shrug

"How about tomorrow at 12:30?" you suggest, checking the pink Bvlgari watch Mike got you.

"Perfect," Art responds with a shit eating smile

“Ok see you guys ” you laugh walking out the court

~~~~~~

“Yeah see” Patrick says reading a newspaper. “Olympic coach, Dylan yLn, Daughter engaged to Olympics gold medalist Mike fitts” Patrick reads next to a photo of you and Mike smiling as you showed off your huge

engagement ring. “She wasn’t bull shitting”

“Let me see” Art says grabbing the newspaper. “She didn't have on her engagement ring when we saw her...” Art trails off

“You can't be serious” Patrick laughs

“What?”

“She’s engaged Art, not to anyone either,” Patrick leaned in on the table so only he could hear. “she’s engaged Mike Fitts!”

“I didn't say anything,” Art defends

“ you don't have to” Patrick says stealing a fry off Arts plate plopping it in him mouth.

”I know you,”

~~~~~

After that day, everything seemed to blend together. Art and Patrick dedicated themselves to training you throughout the weekdays for three entire months until you got tired of it and decided on once a week. You told Mike you found a coach but never told him who. Since they were kinda the only people you knew in the entire school, the three of you grew close fast. You started going out to bars and parties together. you had your most memorable college moments with the two of them. And then, your birthday arrived. Patrick had left for some torment and it was just you and Art.

You two were just having so much fun that night. On thing led to another And before you realized it, the two of you were constantly having “fun together”. It didn't matter where - in the dorm, in the shower, or even on the floor. It was bad, but you two couldn't stop

Trying to clear your mind you Let out a sigh. you carefully remove Mike from your side sitting up to taking a sip of you're water on the nightstand. Trying to ignore the ache of your core. This is how you spent every night away from him, needy, uncomfortable. You heard a knock at the door which almost caused you to spill water on yourself. You Quickly put your drink down and run to answer it before the person could knock again careful to be quiet not to wake up Mike.

You swung the door open to find Art standing there, hair slightly damp, with huge smile on his face. "Are you out of your mind?" you whisper, stepping out of the room and shutting the door quietly behind you. You can't help but notice his thin athletic hoodie and gym shorts. Slightly wet clinging to his skin as if he just stepped out of the shower.

"It's past one ,"Art huffed out , his voice filled with urgency and desire as he leaned in for a kiss. his hand gently cradling the side of your face in the process.

When the realization of what was happening washed over you, you pulled away, but still stayed close enough to feel his breath against your skin. "Art," you breathed out, eyes darting down the hall to check if anyone saw. Your hand instinctively found its place on his strong chest, you savored the feeling and the look of your manicured nails there, not knowing when you be able to do it again.

"I like these," Art hummed, playing with the hem of your pajama shorts. He rolled the fabric between his fingers, his big hand gracing you thighs in the process. The little touch sent shivers down your spine. You somehow composed yourself pushing him away gently with your index finger, creating some distance between you two.

He looked at you with sad eyes like a rejected puppy. "Mike’s sleeping inside," you whisper, worried someone could hear. "What does that mean?"

There was a long pause as you carefully choose your next words. Art stared at you intently, trying to decipher your expression. "You slept with him?” Art asks, as if he already knew the answer.

"No, I didn't sleep with him!” You whisper yelled, “He just showered and fell asleep," you explained,

"What's bothering you then?"

"I feel guilty."

"You didn't feel guilty at Stanford."

"Mike wasn't at Stanford."

“You care about Mike's feelings now ?" Art's asks furrows his brow, his voice filled with a mix of confusion and hurt.

" I don’t know… he’s been nicer lately and were supposed to be married in three days”

“You’re actually thinking about going through with it?” Art asked the hurt now evident in his voice.

“There’s nothing I can do now, I signed contracts, this isn’t just about us anymore I’ve told you this”

“What about the private investors?”

"That's just a 'what if,' a perfect 'what if,' but we don't even know if he's seeing someone."

“ If I win tomorrow?”

“Art If you win are lose tomorrow it doesn’t change anything, my Dad expects me at the alter on Sunday regardless, nothings gonna change that”

“But you don’t love him ”

“ I could” your words come out more a question, maybe a hope. “I loved you?”

“You love me” Art corrects

"There's too much at stake now, Art. This is my father's career. We don't come from money, this is all he has."

“You honestly believe this will ruin his career?”

“It could” you reply with a small shrug your voice cracking slightly.

“It won’t” Art response

“You don’t know that”

“ Don’t do this ” Art whispered closing the small space between you. He sounded so tortured, like he was pleading with you.

you hadn't realize it but tears welled in your eyes Threatening to spill any moment. When You blinked an a tear fell down your cheek. Art tenderly brushed it away with his thumb. The stress of the last two weeks had finally caught up to you. “it wasn’t supposed to be this hard” you murmured, your voice barely audible, tears streaming down your face as Art wiped them away.

“Do you love me?” his questions sounded genuine but you knew, he already knew the answer. ”more than i’d like to” you joke, using the back of your hand to dry your eyes.

“Then let me make you feel better,” Art whispered leaning down so he was directly above your ear.

“You’re right about what you said earlier, Mike wasn’t there at Stanford”. He paused for a second moving a piece of your hair out the way, “I was,” he hummed brushing his face against yours “just me and you” he whispered leaving a trail of kisses on the outside of your earlobe down your neck. Causing Your breath catch in your throat .“We had fun right?” Art question, his voice deep and breathy causing you to instinctively press your legs together as you leaned back against the door. “Art” you mumble trying to shake the sexual haze that was swirling inside you.

“I missed you” he whispered his free hand slinking up the side of you short griping your thigh, hiking your leg up slightly. “So bad…All day”

“we can't” you manage to breathe out unconvisingly.

“I’ll beg,”

“Art” you warned

“I’ll do anything baby” he mumbles leaving slowly kisses on your neck. “Anything you want me to” he says kissing under your chin. “ I need you” he hums kissing down your neck, ”don’t you need me?” Art asked kissing below your ear. You don't respond giving small nodd biting the inside of your lip. “Can I hear it?” Art asked, the way his voice sounded so desperate, Damn near whiney had you looking for friction. ”I need you so fucking bad” you basically moan pushing your body against his.

“I love you so much you don't understand” Art said smiling against you cheek. sliding his free hand down the front of your shorts. He rubs his fingers through your folds collecting your wetness on his fingers. You throw your head back with a quiet moan, quickly biting your lip to silence yourself. “Fuck your so wet” Art groans before pulling his hand from your shorts, sucking his fingers clean like it was second nature. You clenched around nothing at the sight.

“I missed that taste” he groans returning his hand to your heat. “Can I make you cum right here” Art huffed out peeping down the hall.

"Yea,” you breathed out, nodding your head feverishly. He could have asked you to drive to the moon in that moment, and you would have said yes. Art slowly pushed two fingers inside of you creating a medium pace before bringing his thumb to rub your clit, you moan lifting your hips to meet his fingers. “Fuck I could eat you out right here” Art groaned watching you Practically fuck yourself on his fingers. “Promise me you won't ever let him see you like this” Art goans leaving kisses on your collar done. “this is mine”

”You can bearly hear a word he's saying the feeling of his thumb on your clit and finger damn near touching you cervix was too much to bear. “I’m gonna cum” you moaned out grabbing Arts shoulder hard in an effort to ground yourself. “I can feel it,” Art breathed pressing his forehead against yours. He presses down harder on your clit causing you to buck into his fingers, letting out a loud moan You cum. his movement don't falter, he continues to pump them in and out while still rubbing your clit until he feels like you've finally had enough.

he removes his fingers from your pussy returning them to his mouth. “I’ll never get tired of that” Art laughs leaning in for a kiss, you return it, taste yourself on his lips. He gently places you leg back on the floor and you stumbled slightly grading his shoulder for balance. He instantly goes to your waist holding you steady. “You ok?” Art ask slight consern on his face. You don't respond afraid of what your voice would sound like after an orgasm like that.

You nod with a smile and Art led you to the hotel room directly next to yours, pulling out a key card from his pocket with a grin.

“You didn't,” you exclaimed as he opened the door.

“I did,” he replied, motioning for you to enter.

“How did you even know our room number?” you ask, stepping inside.

“I have my ways,” he answered, closing the door behind you.

“How did you afford this?” you asked, looking around.

“Are you going to keep ask questioning or are you going to take of your clothes” Art laughs , watching as you sit on the bed.

“You first,” you countered, settling back .

“Yes ma’am,” Art chuckled, starting to undress.

~~~~

Morning arrives and you found yourself back in your original room. Mike was in the bathroom getting ready while you fix your dress in the mirror of the bedroom. As you adjust the straps, you notice a hickey you hadn't seen before, one you forgot to cover up after coming back last night. You laid your hair over it and walk towards the bathroom to retrieve your makeup bag, slightly tripping as your sore legs gave out on you. "You good?" Mike asked, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, I think I'm just sore from tennis practice," you say, reaching past him to get your makeup bag.

"You know no one expects you to play," Mike laughs while drying his hair with a towel. "I'm not doing it for anyone, I want to learn," your words come out more offended than you intended. "I just mean you could spend your time doing something else."

"Like what?" You respond plainly, walking out of the bathroom back to the mirror. "Like calling your dad and asking him what time he'll be here," Mike says from the now open bathroom. "Is your phone not working?" You asked rhetorically, pulling out your concealer . "I don't want to fight today, okay," Mike Replies sternly, looking at you through the reflection of the mirror. "This is a big match," he mumbles while running his toothbrush under the water.

"I thought you said it was going to be 'nothing,'" you chuckle dryly, applying the concealer as his face was turned. "It is, but from what your Dad's been saying, he's been getting good. So I'd like to be on my A-game and not have you trying to start shit."

"Whatever you want honey" you respond, quietly laughing in disbelief. He had resorted right back to his old ways,How could you ever agree to marry someone like him, someone so vastly different from the man you spent the night with.

~~~~

soon as you and Mike were finished getting ready, your father called you to come downstairs to join him for breakfast. You and Mike both stood in line, slightly overdressed, picking out your favorite breakfast items. Mike only getting French toast, disregarding his strict diet. Suddenly, you heard a familiar laughter and turned around to see Art chatting with your father near the entrance. Your heart sank as your father motioned for you both to come over. After dropping off your plates, you and Mike walked towards them, feeling Mike's hand slip around your waist.

"I'd like you to meet someone," your father announced with a smile, putting his arm around Art's shoulder. "This is Art Donaldson," he introduced, "the man I'm competing against today." Mike stated extending his hand for a handshake, and Art reciprocated. Your stomach churned at the sight. "This is Mike, you know him, he's also my daughter's fiancé." Your father says with a smile.

"Stressful, huh?" Art jokes. "Oh, you have no idea," your Dad replies, laughing. "You're both at the same college, right? Stanford?" your Dad asked, nodding towards you. “maybe you could try your luck at training her because I just can't get through," your dad jokes. Art's eyes rake over you, as if looking at you for the first time. "It be my pleasure" Art smiles, looking directly at you. You to discreetly warn him with your eyes but You notice Mike's grip on your waist tighten, clearly not pleased. "Actually, I've been training y/n already, she's improving every day," Mike says, planting a quick kiss on your head.

"Really?" Art inquires, trying to keep up the act to the best of his abilities. "Monday through Friday," Mike replies with a smug grin. “How do you manage with your Busy schedule?” Art asks tilting his head to the side slightly in the process.

“You find time for the people you love,” Mike says with a fake smile. You had to physically hold back your laugh. But you played it off as wiping your face. He had taken a line straight from media training. Silence filled the air as the two have a silent conversation with their eyes.

“Well I wanted to introduce all of you, as I will officially be coaching Art starting next fall,"

Your Dad says in an attempt to break the tension. But it only makes it worse, Somehow Mike's grip on you tightened even more, now you were concerned he’d leave a bruise . "When did you make this decision?" Mike asked, his face showing no emotion but you could tell he was angry. "two weeks ago, and I've been waiting for the right moment to properly introduce you two. I know the timing is awkward with the match, but it's better to do it now than later."

Mike doesn’t say anything giving an expressionless nod. There was another awkward pause before you decided to speak up. "It was nice meeting you…Art?" you trail off , purposely sounding unsure. He nodded with a knowing smile. "But our food is getting cold," you joked, trying to escape the suffocating tension. "I wouldn't want to keep the couple from their food," Art said, while a smiling again only looking directly at you. You wanted to scream, he was being so obvious and the way Mike was already acting, you knew you wouldn’t hear the end of it. "You two eat, I have to go handle some things, I won’t be long" your father said, gesturing for you and Mike to sit at the table before walking off with Art.

Once the two of you sit back at the table you feel caught. "I don't want you near that guy," Mike says, taking a sip of his coffee. You roll your eyes and stab at your scrambled eggs. “He was basically eye fucking you the whole time, and it doesn’t help that your dress is so tight”

“I think you forget sometimes this isn’t real,” you reply, taking a bite.

"Lower your voice," Mike warns, glancing around to see if anyone heard.

"You didn't care about it being real when you accepted the gifts," he scoffs, "or in Virginia."

"It was once, Mike. And every day, you make me regret it."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. You don't get to control me just because you buy me shit. Anyone can buy me shit."

“I told you i’m not doing this with you today” Mike laughs dryly standing up from the table. "I'll see you later, okay babe?" he says a bit louder, forcing a fake smile as he plants a kiss on your head before walking away. You try your best not to flinch when he touches you. Once he's gone, your phone buzzes, and you glance down to see an unsaved number. It's a text from Art.

“meet me at the restaurant next door in 20, alone.”

Author note : GUYS FEEL FREE TO COMMENT I LOVE READING COMMENTS

#black reader #art donaldson #art donaldson smut #challengers #challengers fanfic #art donaldson x reader #Art Donaldson x black reader #Art Donaldson x black female #art donaldson x female reader

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